A Strange Occurance
by DraegonSong
Summary: Fate; a term Merlin has recently come to accept as something that is entirely unavoidable. But naturally, he begins to have doubts when a string of particularly curious events begin to unfold before him. Ever since the appearance of an enchanting young woman in Camelot, the fates of two young sorcerers become permanently combined, binding them to the duties of eachother's worlds.
1. A Strange Occurance

**Update: 22/03/2013: This chapter constantly undergoes changes/improvements. It's novice, I know, but it's the first piece of writing I've ever posted *anywhere*, so cut it some slack.**

**DISCLAIMER: Clearly, I own neither BBC's Merlin or J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. As this is the first chapter, let that be known. I will not be repeating this statement again in the future.**

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A particularly crisp spring morning for Camelot, Merlin thought wordlessly to himself as he scurried around gathering Arthur's things for the "much anticipated" first hunting trip of the season. Merlin generally disapproved of the idea of killing innocent animals, especially for sport. It was barbaric. But he understood the value of hunting for food. But Arthur wasn't hunting for food, he was the _prince, _he had people to do that for him. No, this kind of hunt was reserved specifically for magickal creatures. He would hunt them, maim them, cut off their horns (if they had any), and bring them back as a trophy to his father. It was done partly to appease Uther, partly to stop magickal attacks on the lower town, and partly to show everyone how prestigious and strong he was. Arthur was kind of an ass that way. Merlin knew there was nothing he could do to stop him, for the time being, and normally Merlin would spend most of his time trying to make sure Arthur didn't hit one, or he would try and help the creature get away before they were even discovered. Being a warlock he could often sense the mental presence of many magickal creatures, their auras would guide him, which proved very beneficial when trying to keep Arthur and his knights away from them. He tried to tell Arthur on more than one occasion that he didn't approve of the senseless slaughter, but Arthur was stubborn and didn't care much for Merlin's words. He had all but given up on trying to explain his feelings to Arthur.. So he conceded to letting Arthur believe Merlin was just a big baby.

_Bloody royalty. _Merlin glared. Merlin began to pack the saddle bags of the horses with food that the knights would eat at their mid-day break, as hunting was usually an all-day affair. He did so bitterly, and began to do a double take of all the straps and reins, to make sure everything was in place. He swung Arthur's crossbow quiver over his shoulder and began to lead all six horses to the court yard to be occupied. On his way through the square some kids darted out of nowhere and began running around between the horses' legs, causing them to become alarmed and irritated. Merlin lead them out of the area but the horses wouldn't stop nickering and biting each other's necks, so Merlin discretely used magick to flick a clod of dried manure at one of them, in an attempt to separate them. To Merlin's annoyance, the chunk wasn't exactly as dry as he had originally thought, and it ended up hitting one of the horses square in the side of the head. It began to bray and flick its face around, trying to get the substance off. Merlin scowled as he walked over and tried to scrape away as much as possible, but the smell would not dissipate. Additionally, it just happened to be the prince's horse, and Merlin didn't think he was ever going to hear the end of it.

"Merlin, would you be so kind as to tell me why my horse smells like rotting dung?" Arthur asked dryly.

"They're horses Arthur, they do smell that way sometimes." Merlin retorted mockingly. Gawaine laughed as Arthur adopted a murderous look upon his face. Arthur never really took the joking of his subordinates too seriously, he saw them less like knights of his command, and more like friends and comrades. He respected them, and took their input seriously, which had helped him to make a decision on more than one occasion. Merlin thought he would be a great king one day, except for the fact that he used Merlin as a punching bag for all of his anger and pent up feelings.

_Sometimes, I can't believe that this is what I was destined to be.. _Merlin thought, bitterly confused. "Very funny Merlin, really.. Ugh, what did you do? Rub it down with its own cra-" "Shh!" Sir Perceval interrupted, slowing his horse to a halt. A distinct flutter of leaves was immediately heard off in the distance, not too far from the group's current location. The air seemed to tense up with the nervous excitement of the hunters. All the knights dismounted in relative unison, toes touching ground first, to avoid making too much unnecessary sound. They brought their crossbows to their chests in preparation. Merlin dismounted and quietly made his way to the front left flank of the group, and with his knees bent, he waited in magickal arms in case he was needed, unbeknownst to the others. He had to protect Arthur, it was his duty, and his destiny, no matter how much he didn't like it. But to the disappointment of the hunting party (not including Merlin), the rustling had seemed to all but stop, leaving silence to reign in the thick grove once more.

Merlin sighed deeply before taking an ambitious step forward to peer around a nearby bush. He slipped awkwardly on a patch of wet moss, and flung his arms up in dismay as he tried to keep his balance. The battle was short lived, and he tumbled idiotically into the dip off the side of the trail. All eyes were suddenly on him. He jolted up, rubbed his sore hip and attempted to look collected while he brushed clumps of mud and dirt from his clothes. The seriousness of the situation, completely washed away by Merlin's idiocy, caused the knights to fall into a fit of roaring laughter.. All except Arthur, who glared before rolling his eyes and turning away. Their noise must have aroused whatever it was nearby, as the bushes farther off started to flutter violently, and the knights could hear female vioces whispering and the pattering of delicate feet. The knights moved out after a cautious and knowing glance at one another. They spread out a bit, and began to move in towards the source of the sounds. Merlin could sense the venomous hearts of sorcerers with bad intentions. His heart began to flutter as he pushed his consciousness forward to try and glean more information, but he couldn't make out any distinct mental shapes. The forest hummed with tapped magick. Whoever they were, they were using natural magick to perform a dark deed, and the thought of it made Merlin sick.

The knights began to close in slowly, and the sound of a large amount of earth moving reached their ears. It was a strange sound because no one heard the use of a shovel or pick, and the earth trembled beneath them. But before they could question it, a loud, thundering snap shook the air around them, so violently and brightly, it was as if Merlin started hearing colours and seeing sounds. Immediately followed by a loud squawk and the heavy beating of wings, a large, eccentric creature came galloping, trying desperately to become airborne, out from the thicket. It had the head and front legs of a gryphon and the body of a mare. Its grey feathered wings flapped frantically, rustling all the foliage on the forest floor. It trotted horizontally across the wide path and as it reached the other side, it put one last burst of energy into jumping into the air, its wings pushed down and out behind it and it took off like a bullet into the eastern sky. However, the legendary hippogryph was not the creature that caught the companions' eyes, but its rider. It was definitely a woman, judging by the long brown hair, but she was fully clothed in black, and had lain so low onto the animal's back that no one got a good look at her face. Merlin sat, astounded.

_Well _that _was definitely the strangest thing I've _ever_ seen._ He thought as he gaped mentally. _How often does one see a crazed woman flying on a hippogryph.. How often does one see _anyone_ flying on a hippogryph? How often does one even_ see_ a _hippogryph_?!_ Merlin shook his head in confusion, hoping to clear his thoughts.

The knights all stood dumbfounded. For the first time it just occurred to Merlin that the woman had truly looked like she was running from something, but from what, he wondered nervously. It became suddenly apparent why the female's urgency was so adamant, when a decrepit gray stone gargoyle came soaring out of the direction the girl had just come from. As it flew overhead, one of the knights released a crossbow bolt at it in rash haste, only to have it bounce off of the creature's solid underbelly, as if it were truly made of stone. The creature seemed to pay no notice to the assault, and continued on with its business of hunting the young girl. An awkward pause crept over the fellowship, what might have been minutes, seconds, or hours was unclear. But Arthur stood un-phased and irritated.

"What are you standing around for, mates, we ARE hunting magickal creatures, aren't we?! That wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence! Sir Perceval, Gawaine, Leon, take the southern route to the nearest eastern clearing. Sir Mordred, Elyan, and Merlin, the northern route, with me. Go on!" The knights nodded in affirmation as Arthur shooed them off. He had a pretty good idea of where the things were headed, as he knew the forests around Camelot quite well. He hunted, dare he say, more than his father, King Uther did in his youth.

The groups clambered down their respective narrow, beaten dirt paths, the horses being long scared off. Merlin tripped on various occasions, but they reached the clearing at about the same time as the others.

As the groups appeared on either side of the clearing, they were met with a disturbing sight. The young woman mounting the hippogryph was still desperately latched onto its back, and she seemed to be holding herself well, but she looked weary and scared. The hippogryph did not seem overly happy about being cornered out in the forest by a stone-taloned enemy either.. It reared up, and screamed its bird call, which greatly resembled nails on a chalk board when it reached the ears of the companions. The girl wrapped her arms around its neck and tried to stroke its feathers, but it refused to calm down. It already had a few gashes on its legs, that sopped thick blood, but had clotted already in several places. Magickal creatures were generally blessed with the gift of unnatural healing times, but even those gifts have their limits. Merlin worried for the creature, it being such a rare breed. Gryphons were aggressive and usually ate anything that didn't eat them first, and mares were far too persnickety, it was extremely rare that the two species should meet.

The hippogryph reared up again and this time brought its talons down upon the gargoyle's face, and a small piece of rock chipped off. The gargoyle made a roaring sound like slate grinding together, and backed up to recuperate. Arthur and his knights ran in between the two beasts, faced the gargoyle, and assumed an attack position, one that had proved very effective in past battles. But Merlin knew that against a magickal creature made entirely of earth and stone, their endless battering would have no effect on the gargoyle's impenetrable skin. At the moment Merlin wished only to rescue the young woman trapped on the winged beast, but he could feel a strong dark enchantment emanating from the derelict looking creature. Quite distinctly the work of a dark sorceress, that only the work of another could undo. He feared for Arthur's safety primarily, and such matters should take presidency before all else. After all, the fate of Albion rested in Arthur's hands, and by extension, Merlin's. It is Arthur's destiny to unite the Five Kingdoms.. He just couldn't do it without Merlin, and he certainly couldn't do it dead.

Merlin darted along the edge of the clearing, out of the obvious line of sight of the knights. He muttered a few words in the language of the Old Religion that would allow him to see what kind of incantations had been placed on the thing. His eyes morphed into a bright amber, and his vision turned black except for any and all enchantments nearby, which glowed gold in the inky darkness. He surveyed the monstrosity as it roared and scraped its claws along the shields of the knights, who were now in a defense position. The auras around the gargoyle radiated that of a magick Merlin recognised all too well. Morgana's. He bit his tongue in rage. The enchantment could not be overcome by normal methods of de-incantation, so Merlin figured the next best thing would be to just blow it up. _Instead of trying to alter the magick that surrounds it, I could just destroy its physical form, rendering the magick useless. It should then dissipate on its own._ He hoped it would work. Surely Morgana didn't expect another sorcerer to be present and be able to decipher that.

_That's the thing with Morgana, she assumes, and refuses to expend more energy than her assumption deems necessary, which often tips the balance between success and failure for her._ Merlin smirked. Before he ended his spell though, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander towards the newcomer, to which he noticed several bits about her person were glowing faintly orange. _There is magick about her! _He exclaimed to himself. But he was unable to determine if they were work of her, or another. And additionally, if they were bad, or good. He decided to push it out of his mind for the time being though, and focus on saving Arthur.

Merlin scoured the edge of the clearing, and found a relatively large, round rock. He cast upon it invisibility spells, a spell enabling it to surpass the magick used to hold the earth and stone in one piece, and a spell that forced it to explode from the inside out, directly on contact, which was hard to cast, because it defied nature.. Merlin was successful though, and he sat briefly.. He wanted this to look as real as possible, despite its improbability. He waited for Arthur to attempt to strike the gargoyle over the head, and took it as a queue. He shot the enchanted stone through the air with a wordless burst of magick. It flew straighter than an arrow and blasted the gargoyle's head clean off of its body, after which the body immediately crumbled to ash and dirt, as the enchantment ceased to exist. Merlin cast his eyes towards the knights, making sure none were gravely hurt. He noticed Elyan laying injured near the middle of the clearing, where the beast had lunged at his leg. He was incapacitated, but seemed to be confused and somewhat satisfied with the results of the battle.

There was a small snort and a squawk, and everyone turned, in remembering the young woman, to see her upright, bolt stiff, still on the back of the hippogryph. Her eyes bulged and shifted around hastily, and the hippogryph pawed the dirt impatiently. She quickly leaned down to whisper something to it, and it became immediately alert. She lightly nudged it in the ribs and Merlin heard her muffled voice,

"C'mon Buckbeak, don't stand around like this, we have to leave!" But it seemed resistant. Arthur took a step forward and began to address her, feeling awkward in her present silence, and Merlin began to take stock of her appearance. She had smooth skin and kempt curly brown hair, that sort of gleamed in the sunlight. _She's definitely foreign to these lands_. Merlin thought in awe.

Arthur stepped even more forward, and held out his hand for hers. _He must think she's a princess or something._ Merlin smiled.

"Fair lady-" Arthur began, but before he could finish, she grabbed two handfuls of feathers on the hippogryph's back, jabbed the heels of her strange footwear into its sides, and shouted,

"_Yah!" _The creature snorted and yelped, and began to run, full speed, right into forest. Her strange figure reappeared over the treeline, as she flew fast and far, northwest, out of the forest, and towards Camelot.

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**Update 11/02/2013; Typos have been fixed, and a few small logical alterations have been made, particularly in the fight scene. Thanks for your patience! Stay tuned for future updates.**

**Update 25(27)/02/2013, 22/03/2013; Big motha fluffin' dialog change. Same plot, more details, different vocab. I wanted it to blend nicer with how my story is playing out in the later chapters, and I figured this was necessary. Plus, this chapter had seemed childish in comparison to my darkly ambient plotline which develops later. It still is a bit.**

***~* ****_If you're reading this, please give it a chance. It gets better._**** *~***


	2. A Wandering Soul

**So glad that there were people who liked chapter one! Tell me what you think of this. (: Oh yes, and credit to the photographer who snapped my story icon thing, "Satanarchrist" on [deviantart]. Thanks!**

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Initially, Arthur was too dumbfounded at being blatantly socially rejected by the young woman to do anything but stand there, irritated and confused. But it soon he began to wonder;

_I really hope that woman we just saw isn't some sorcerer.. If she is, Camelot might just be on the threshold of war.._

"We need to get back to Camelot and warn my father about what we saw. If that girl isn't a sorcerer maybe I can convince him to spare her life." He said solemnly. If it were up to Uther, Arthur knew that his father would kill her before she got a chance to defend herself, just because of that damned beast. "Span out, find the horses, we'll make our way back to Camelot-"

The sudden but faint sound of crumbling castle walls and civilian screams reached their ears, followed by the snapping of what one could only assume was a large tree.

"-On second thought, Merlin, help me take Elyan back to see Gaius, all else shall search the northwestern forest on the opposite side of Camelot; sounds like there's been a bit of a crash landing.. If you find her, bring her to me, and don't kill the beast unless it attacks." He didn't wait for their approval, but simply jogged back into the woods to find the horses. Unfortunately they weren't tied down, or together, so it was a stroke of luck to find any one of them. After Arthur had passed back into the canopy of trees, Merlin darted over to where Elyan lay, now unconscious from blood loss, and stanched the bleeding from his leg with magick. He tore a strip from his tunic and tightly wrapped the cut. It was deep, but the bone didn't appear to be affected dramatically. The cut was clean though, which suggested that there was even more magick enchanting the dull, rough exterior of the gargoyle's claws, making them sharper than swords. It occurred to Merlin that the gargoyle must have had some predesigned purpose, but who would want to kill a young woman like the one he saw earlier? She looked awfully innocent. Merlin didn't stop to ponder it. He hoisted Elyan up, pulling his arm around Merlin's neck, grabbed his waist for support, and half hobbled, half dragged him out of the clearing to find Arthur.

It took a while, but Arthur found two horses, one of which he mounted, and to the other Elyan was fastened. His wrists were tied, arms around the horse's neck, and his legs were strapped in so he wouldn't fall. Merlin however had to keep a running pace to make it back with Arthur's horse. Merlin didn't protest though, in fact, he didn't say much at all, he was just eager to find the strange young woman and hear her story, and learn about where she came from. He yearned for it deep inside, as if something was pulling him in her direction, however slightly. He felt guilty about desiring someone he knew nothing about, and had never met before, but he concluded it was his warlock instincts telling him that she was important. Important to the destiny of Camelot, if it was even possible.

When Arthur and Merlin reached Camelot, Gaius was already waiting in arms, and immediately began to assist Elyan's drooped figure out from the saddle. Merlin, though already red in the face, ran over to help. He hated standing around, mostly because it usually got him in trouble. Not seconds later Uther came billowing out from Camelot's main entranceway. He had a look about him like he had been preparing for war, and Merlin scoffed to himself, shaking his head. When Uther spotted Arthur in the returning party of three, he briskly walked over to him.

"There has been an attack on Camelot!" He boomed. "Some dark sorceress and her flying magickal apprentice flew in and took the top off our northern guard tower." His gaze began to search the courtyard. "Where are your knights? Have they gone to capture this abomination?" Merlin felt the blood pulse thickly in his ears. _How could he be so _arrogant_ and _narrow-mind_ as to think that everything magick that comes to Camelot is dark and evil? Does he not acknowledge any of the "_miracles_" that befall Arthur where he lives when he should have died? _

"Father, calm down, what you saw, I believe was just a woman.. flying on a hippogryph-" Uther scoffed. "Father I do not believe she is evil, much less a sorceress, she was being chased by an enchanted stone demon, and we had to save her, she was entirely defenseless." Merlin mentally agreed, to his own remorse, the chances of that woman being magickal were slim, but for the latter, Merlin knew that Arthur had to exaggerate with his father, otherwise it wouldn't get through his thick skull. He didn't realize, but he was openly scowling at Uther, and Gaius had to elbow him in the ribs to get him to calm down. At least so it didn't show outright.

"-Yes father, my knights are looking into it as we speak." Merlin tuned back into the conversation.

"I shall make arrangements for the tower to be rebuilt, in the meantime, Arthur, I want this woman identified and brought to me in the throne room before dinner." Arthur bit his lip,

"Yes father."

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The sun was beginning to set, it was going to be dinner soon, and Arthur knew that his father would be getting impatient. He motioned for his horse to speed into a trot, and Merlin followed his lead. The horses were insanely tired but with the quickly dwindling daylight hours, there was no time to switch them out for fresh ones. Merlin sympathized for the creature, and they pressed forward. They didn't have to search long; Arthur's knights came bursting out of the nearby shrubbery, obviously overtired from the day's events.

"Sire, the girl, she has been found.." Sir Leon said in between breaths, "We didn't approach her, as we were not sure of her state. We simply came to find you." He reported.

"Excellent, where is she?"

Sir Leon jabbed a thumb in the direction they just came from, "Directly that way sire, barely 50 feet past those bushes."

"The beast is injured gravely," Gawain added solemnly. "I don't think it will survive the night." Arthur seemed relatively unaffected, but Merlin was already mourning the soon-to-be loss of quite a legendary creature. He hoped to find it soon, in case there was something he could do.  
"Thank you, you are all dismissed, I think Merlin and I can handle this much."

The knights eagerly scampered off, anxious to eat and get into a warm bed. Merlin's stomach rumbled awkwardly, and he was starting to feel bitter about the whole situation. His energy thoroughly depleted, he slumped on the back of his horse, and picked at a piece of frayed leather on the edge of the saddle, mentally blaming it for all of his worldly problems. He had pondered many things in the few minutes it took them to travel the spance Sir Leon had indicated, that was before Arthur started picking on him.

"You're awfully quiet Merlin, not nearly as annoying as you were this morning." Arthur piped playfully.

"Yeah well, a lot of things have happened since this morning, and frankly, I'm tired." He retorted.

"Well isn't that unfortunate for you. I thought you were the one excited to find this girl?" Arthur chirped.

"I have said no such thing." Merlin said defensively.

"You're an open book, Merlin."

Some twigs snapped in the distance, and Merlin felt suddenly thrilled, his hungry stomach forgetting its pain in favour of the exciting discoveries that awaited him. Truthfully, it was not the lack of excitement that made him stubborn to go on this little escapade; it was the lack of results which left him bored out of his mind. But he perked at the thought of finally making sense of today's events. Both men dismounted and made their way towards the sound. They slid behind some large, man-concealing bushes, and Arthur gently parted the leaves on a tall leafy plant to get a better view. Beyond lay a tree, snapped nearly at the base but not entirely separated from its counterpart, and a familiar looking girl and her injured steed. She loomed over it, tending to its injured, hawk-like leg. Merlin's heart was caught in his throat, partly from excitement and partly from exertion. He leaned in to get a better look, making a few small steps forward. Suddenly, he tripped on a protruding root, and fell into the bush and landed in a tangled mess on the ground. He wiggled around like a beached carp, and looked up to see the girl clearly surprised out of her wits, and staring him down with a cunning, frightened, brown-eyed glare.


	3. Discovery of a Lifetime

**For future reference for the people who read my original chapter one. I have replaced Lancelot with Leon, as I seem to have forgotten poor Sir Leon, and the time of Lancelot was not the time of Mordred. Alas, I have the irreversable prospect that Uther is still alive in the time of Mordred. So it's about to get.. Weird. Got any ideas? Review. I might just use 'em. **

**My explaination? Hermoine's predesigned fate to come to Camelot has distrupted history. Uther lives! *Gasp*. Maybe. I don't like Uther.**

**I've talked too much. Here's my chapter numero trois.**

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When Merlin was done sprawling on the ground and got up, Arthur smacked him upside the head.

"You _imbecil."_ Arthur groaned through gritted teeth. He had turned his face away from the girl so she would not see the violently irritated look in his eyes. All appearances of such feelings seemed to evaporate when he turned back to inspect the scene again. She was just so peculiar, he wasn't even sure if she was going to understand English if he spoke it. The three of them stood in their respective positions and just watched each other for a little while. Merlin grew impatient and really wanted to get some answers.

"Hi." He greeted, his voice almost taking on a questioning tone. The girl kind of shuffled her feet and looked down, seemingly too nervous to reply. Arthur didn't turn to glare at him though as Merlin had expected, almost treating it like they were still hunting wild game, and one look away could spoil the whole hunt. Merlin almost laughed at Arthur's antics, but he stopped himself. The girl also seemed to relax a bit, like she had come from somewhere so far away, she was also surprised to find out they were civil, but she still didn't make any motion to move closer, farther or anywhere for that matter. She just stood there, nervously inspecting the pair of them.

They really hadn't been standing there all that long, but Arthur was beginning to feel embarrassed, which made him insanely irritated. Sitting around staring at each other was ridiculously pointless, and he knew his father would be ashamed to find him dawdling around. He mustered up his courage, pushed away his uncertainty and took a few steps forward. He greeted her with respect, but not near as royally as his last attempt. He just wanted to get it over with.

"Fair traveler, where have you come from and what do you seek that requires you to come crashing into the castle of Camelot?" He said suspiciously. She seemed surprised at the mention of Camelot, but it didn't hinder her reply, and she showed no sign of weakness.

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Enter Hermione

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Hermione felt herself start blurting things out, as she usually did when she was nervous or excited,

"I-It was an accident, I assure you, I just.. I lost control. He was just so tired," She glanced remorsefully down at Buckbeak, laying still, and breathing shallowly, "He broke his leg, I've been trying to help,.. I'm really sorry," her apology was pleading, and she suddenly felt small. She hardened herself slightly and straightened her back. "You're the same people, aren't you? The ones who killed that.. Whatever it was. Possessed piece of rock." For the first time she began to take note of their appearance. The broader one, looked like he was fed better than the other, he was dressed nicer too. She assumed the scrawny one was his servant or something. She continued to speculate until Arthur replied,

"You should be thankful we saved you're life-" Hermione laughed obnoxiously.

"Saved me? I can take care of myself, thanks." Arthur was blown away. _She's a _Lady_. How does she compare, a mere traveler, to a knight of Camelot, much less a prince?!"_

To complete the look of nonchalance, she turned from them, to re-inspect her injured sidekick. She had been just ready to pull out her wand when these people showed up, but she had no idea where, and when she was, and without that information she didn't know how to set her time turner and go back, so she best play ignorant if she wanted to find out how to get home.

"Do you have _any_ idea who you're talking to?" Arthur was flustered. Merlin flashed Arthur a glare that said something like _"Calm down, we don't even know what she's capable of" _but Arthur too was stubborn, and refused to acknowledge it. Merlin rolled his eyes.

_A royal brat, by the sounds of it.._ Hermione bit her lip. She couldn't say that. But _boy,_ did she want to.

"Enlighten me." she said sarcastically, caressing the wand tucked in her sleeve.

"Arthur Pendragon, soon to be King of Camelot, I'll have you know." Merlin coughed intentionally into his hand. "And my _idiot _of a servant, Merlin." he blurted monotonously, with all of his passion funneled into the word "idiot". A big smile stretched across Merlin's face.

Hermione's insides began to churn at the mention of the "Once and Future King" she had read so much about, but she didn't _dare_ show it. He wasn't going to get the smug satisfaction of seeing her regret _anything_ at this point in time, (no pun intended). She glared at Arthur with the intensity of a hundred suns.

"Well, fancy meeting you, Prince Arthur," She tried to sound like she didn't care, "and Merlin." She curtsied sarcastically. She was feeling kind of snide today. _I guess travelling a thousand years into the past and crashing into a castle can do that.. _She smiled wryly,

_Wait, did he just say_ Merlin_?!_

Arthur seemed not to take notice of her dripping sarcasm, though.

"Wish I could say the same.." He replied dully. "However my father has requested, or should I say demanded, that I bring you to him before dinner, which I can bet we'll be late for if we don't go now."

Hermione, forgetting the day and age, suddenly became profusely passionate about her human rights.

"And who's stopping me from just turning around and walking away?" She snapped.

"Several search parties of over 50 well trained knights." That shut her up.

"But what about Bu-.. My friend." She looked down.

"I doubt he can be saved. There are more important matters to attend to though, so please, if you would be so kind, come with me." Hermoine concluded that she would allow herself time to mourn later. Now she must play along.

_Arthur could be _so insensitive_ sometimes_, Merlin thought. He waited behind a bit until the girl and Arthur had passed through the bushed towards where the horses were tied. She didn't look up at him, and no one looked back to make sure he was following them. It was as he hoped.

"I never caught your name." Arthur asked politely. Merlin listened through the trees.

"Hermione.. Hermione Granger."

"Pleasure."

Merlin didn't wait around. He bolted towards the hippogryph and mumbled a few blood regeneration and healing spells. He made his way quickly to its broken leg. He sat for a minute, conjuring the necessary words in Icelandic. He articulated thoroughly, as this was a particularly bad spell to mispronounce. There was a rather resounding crack, and the bird jerked its head up and screamed like a dying bird of prey, before quickly standing upright and testing its weight. It noticed that its pain had been relieved, and let out a little happy "Coo". Satisfied, it looked over at Merlin, and he swore its eyes held "thanks". It trotted happily off into the trees, probably to find food.

"MERLIN!" Arthur impatiently yelled. The bird looked back once again, alerted by the sound, before bounding completely out of sight.

He ran down to the horses, and saw the girl looking up at him, quite distressed. She clearly heard the hippogryph's yell. Arthur asked,

"What in hell did you do to that thing?"

Merlin hesitated. "I.. put it out of its misery."

The girl looked sad, but relieved, and almost thankful. He glanced skyward and noted that it had become considerably darker since they arrived. Some owls hooted off in the distance, and a flock of nightingales passed overhead.

"Go quickly and you'll make it back in time. I'll catch up later." He laced his fingers together, cupping his hands to make a step for Hermoine to get onto the horse. Arthur nodded briskly and they took off without hesitation. Hermione looked back in a silent "I'm sorry.", but he just smiled. He didn't mind it, walking alone. It was the first time he had all day to think about what had just transpired. He took his time walking, silently wondering what Gaius had made for dinner that evening. He thought deeply about all other wild propositions fate had in store for him and Arthur, about his duties as his protector, and as a warlock. He pondered, and it set his mind more slightly at ease. For the time being.


	4. Conviction

**Hm, hope you like it. People seemed to enjoy the last one, considering almost all the reviews I got on it consisted of one word, "More"**

**Well here it is! Also, if you enjoy Merlin/HP crossovers, I urge you to read "Only a Boy" by Riddell Lee. An absolutely fantastic story, still in the making.**

**I still don't know what I'm going to do with this exactly, I just know that I want it to be soulcrushing, in both a good, and bad way. :3**

**But for now, have this lol.**

* * *

Arthur was very stressed out on the ride back to Camelot. He looked to the silhouette of the traveling woman, and for the first time he noticed her multi-coloured scarf, which was gold and red. She looked like she came from a wealthy family, but he didn't particularly enjoy her company.. She had seemed so arrogant. His feelings contrasted enormously. Maybe he was misjudging her? Maybe she was fine, just being defensive. She _did_ just lose a friend, after all, magickal legendary beast or otherwise. And what if _she_ was magickal? Anyone would have to be to enchant a crazed beast like that into letting her ride it. But then why didn't she use it during the fight earlier that day? She clearly didn't know about Uther's ban on magick. She was too.. foreign.. But she also looked too intelligent to risk exposing herself..

He would respect her nonetheless, but she still made him feel out of place. He looked forward, and urged the horse in the direction of Camelot. He thanked whatever gods there where that the night concealed the obvious frustration on his face, but that didn't seem to stop the feeling in his gut that the woman's eyes were boring a hole into his back. It irritated him. _Doesn't she know that staring is impolite? Especially at a prince._ But Arthur knew how to pick his battles. Sometimes.

When they arrived at Camelot, Hermione slid quite ungracefully off of the horse, almost getting her leg caught in a strap and falling face first onto the cobblestones. If Arthur was any less chivalrous he swore he would have been laughing at her obvious lack of experience with horses. Arthur wondered how she managed herself on a flying one. She was charming though, in her own stupid way. Kind of like Merlin.. Arthur gagged at the thought of having two Merlins wandering around Camelot at all hours of the day. _One is most certainly enough! _he prayed.

While squirming to get off the horse, Hermione had accidentally dropped her Griffindor-house coloured scarf into the dirt, but once she was off, she had found that Arthur had already gotten it for her and dusted it off. He handed it to her but before she could thank him she found herself being grabbed by the collar of her shirt and hoisted up and around against her will.

"Who are you? What do you want with Camelot? Why have you attacked my people?" Arthur seemed just as surprised to see that Uther had come out of nowhere and was now interrogating this young girl. She gaped at him, she could barely find her voice. Uther noticed her gold and red scarf, his grip loosened "What family do you hail from?"

"I, uh, one very, very far from here. Too far to travel by horse." Hermione said meekly.

"So you travel magickally." It wasn't a question.

_Of course I travel magickally, you oaf. I'm from the wizarding world.. _She said nothing aloud, and dropped her gaze.

"Throw her in the dungeon. She will be executed in the morning for treachery against Camelot. She is too far from home to be saved, anyways." Uther spat in her horrified face.

"Father that's ridiculous! She's clearly not a sorceress or she could have disappeared hours ago! No dungeon could've contained her. Believe me when I say she is _no _threat to Camelot what-so-ever." Arthur protested. But Uther immediately became blinded by his ignorance and hatred.

"I _said_.. Throw her in the dungeons. Don't defy me Arthur." Uther stalked off. "Guards, make sure it's done." He said to some night-watchers on his way into the castle._ Great, he doesn't even trust me to follow orders anymore either. _Arthur thought. Hermione was sitting on the ground crying silently, after being tossed there by Uther like a load of soiled laundry. Merlin came running up to them, looking apprehensive. He immediately helped Hermione to her feet, and grabbed her only possessions, a small beaded bag and a coloured scarf. Arthur had been too disgruntled by his father's words to think about helping her up, and he suddenly felt very sheepish and rude. If there was one thing he wasn't going to appear to be in front of a lady, it was hypocritical.

"Don't worry Miss Granger. I'll talk to Uther. He acts rashly upon suspicion alone. I'll see if I can get him to ease the punishment." Arthur tried to reassure her. "For the time being, please get some rest. I wish I could have treated you to better quarters than the dungeons, but Uther is the King. No matter what I say against it." Merlin didn't have to ask to realize that the poor girl had been condemned to death.

"How long does she have?" He asked gravely, still holding Hermione.

"Less than a day." Arthur replied in kind.

Hermione stiffened. She seemed to regain herself slightly before saying, "I appreciate it Prince Arthur, thank you." He admired her courage. She took her fate without question or indignity, despite the great injustice. Her knees grew weak at the thought of either dying, or having to make another unruly jump through time without disrupting the history of the current one. She clutched at Merlin's sleeve, feeling like she might fall. Merlin braced her against himself and ruefully lead her toward the dungeon, which Arthur had let him do alone being too tired to see the act out himself. The guards followed them part of the way, but Merlin assured them that he was headed directly to the dungeon and that they could dismiss themselves.

Hermione had fainted part way thereafter, mostly out of fear, and partly out of fatigue. It certainly had been a long day, for everyone. He made a quick decision to stop by the chambers he shared with Gaius and borrow some food to leave with her for when she woke up. He was immensely grateful that Gaius was not in, he didn't feel like having to explain why he was dragging an unconscious woman into their home. He grabbed half a loaf of bread and decided that, without snooping, he would put it in her bag for her, and leave it in the cell with her. He put the bread in, and was surprised to find that it made no bulge and added no weight to the bag itself. _Is this magick? _He thought excitedly and decided to test it. He set the bag open on the table and took one of Gaius's old staffs and attempted to fit it in. To his utter surprise the staff became submerged completely without any resistance. His heart jumped.. He removed the staff and returned to its place in the corner with all the other wood scraps that they used for firewood.

It had gotten dark as pitch outside since he told Arthur he would take the girl to the dungeon, and he couldn't afford to wait around any longer. He picked her up, and put her things in her lap, and carried her down the stairs in the west wing of the castle, past the guards, and into the first cell past the dungeon door. He laid her down, tied the scarf around her neck and tucked her bag behind her head, mostly so it wouldn't be seen. He was sad at the idea of the world losing such a unique individual. He swore he'd try his best to help her, and departed the dungeons before anyone became suspicious.

* * *

**Sorry, I know it's short. I'll probably write again very soon.**

**Like the cliffhanger?**


	5. Redemption

**Hi guys! Gonna cut to the chase; I really hate to be the preacher [wo]man here but I get very little feedback on my quality of writing. I assume people would speak up more if it was really bad, in which case, this is good I guess, but it's always nice to know if I'm on the right track with meeting your expectations. You know? So, if you can, send in a review. Or don't. I'm not dying for them, just wanting to know if I am doing good.**

**Secondly, a little fun fact for you; Did you know that the original Welsh/Irish spelling for the names of the Merlin characters are Myrddin, Artur/Arthur (debatable), Gwenhwyfar (Guinevere), Medraut/Medrod (Mordred), Morgaine/Morgan Le Fay (Morgana) and that the basis for most of Britain's accounts on the tale of them (Written by Geoffrey of Monmouth) was actually quite embellished, and admittedly smoothed over by things from Geoffrey's imagination. Hm! Interesting. Nevertheless, a classic story. I wish there was more reliable information on it, though!**

**And without further ado!**

* * *

Hermione rolled over in her sleep, subconsciously, she couldn't ever remember her bed being this hard. Something prickled and crackled underneath her as she moved too. It sounded like.. like _straw_. Her eyes burst open in alarm. She saw the withered stone ceiling, and smelled the rank stench of old hay, water runoff, and unclean bodies and she immediately remembered where she was. She sat up faster than a bolt of lightning and started to take in her surroundings. Time turner, forest, Buckbeak, Camelot, dungeon...

_Merlin._

She marveled in it for a few moments. _Merlin the Great. The man who's pants and beard we curse upon on a regular basis back at Hogwarts. And yet, he's so young. How far back I must be.._ But that school of thought soon left her as she heard some muffled voices outside of the room she was in, one of which she recognized as Arthur Pendragon. She assumed he was having a quarrel with the guardsman. Their speech was unintelligible, except for once when Arthur mentioned her name. She began to take in other information.. It was sort of her niche. The room was longer than it was wide, and both sides were lined with wet, dreary cells much like her own. She was sitting on a makeshift hay mattress. Upon further inspection she found her handbag where her head had been. She snatched it and rooted around until she found her wand.

_Whew.. thank god no one found _that_ in there. Or I'd really be done for._ She felt for her books, flasks, filled and otherwise, and spare clothes to make sure nothing had been removed. She came across a wrapped chunk of bread, and yanked it out, not remembering packing it..

_Merlin must have put it there on our way here.. I hope he didn't notice the bag was magickally extended.. But how could he _not?

She felt miserable. Either too far past, or not sad enough, because she wasn't crying. But she felt like curling up in the corner and just dying there. Not only had she _nearly_ escaped notice of having magick (Enough so to have at least _one_ person fighting for her freedom), but she probably disrupted important histories in the process. She also felt helpless to escape. She didn't want to use magick to risk exposure, and she didn't want to use her time turner because who_ knows_ what stands on these lands 1,000 years from now. She could get herself killed. Or worse, miss her time and end up in some other bogus place and spend the rest of her life jumping through time trying to get her old life back.

Hermione was dwelling too deep to notice when Arthur walked into the room and found her huddled at the far edge of the cage. He looked at her sadly, he felt bad for her, and partly responsible. Maybe he should have not brought her back, told Uther she got away. But what if she had died trying to survive? He felt torn, but the news he was about to give her lightened his heart a bit.

He coughed to get her attention, and her face shot up to look at him, with the most unrestrained look of sad passion written all over her. His heart sank.

"My father-Uh, Uther wishes to extend you the opportunity to testify." He added, "And perhaps buy your way out of a death sentence." He tried to make it sound a little more playful than it was, and it only ended up being awkward. Hermione looked at him, confused but grateful. She began to get her courage back.

"I accept that offer, when do I speak?" Her voice croaked from not having a drink in a long time. Her lips were dry and cracked as well, and she suddenly started considering her presentability.

"Now, if you're ready." He eyed her quizzically. She glanced down, brushed the dirt off of her clothes, cleared her throat, and tried to look confident. Arthur thought she looked rather dignified for someone trying to woo their way out of being burned alive. She looked up at him again and nodded briskly, signaling for him to lead her to the council room. He did something unexpected though; he pulled a water skin off of his belt, and handed to her before unlocking the cage door. She pretty much drained it before handing it back, and she smiled.

"Thank you, Prince Arthur."

"Just Arthur." He answered meekly, smiling back.

* * *

He led her around the castle, and Hermione found herself admiring the architecture. It was phenomenal, really. She had read about it in books, and seen artists' renditions, but there was nothing like seeing it in the flesh, especially if one was into that sort of thing. And Hermione was one of those people. She was having a small fantasy about running through all the beautiful corridors when the court room doors opened with a loud, dull clunk, and a screech. She was so taken aback she almost actually jerked away from it. But she thanked her nerves that she didn't, and she entered the room with dignity openly written on her face.

She walked right up to Uther in his throne, and bowed, not wanting to dawdle and waste time. She held her ground, and looked Uther directly in the eyes when he spoke, something most didn't do during this era. The men of the court lined the walls, and a few servants lined the wall behind the throne, where the eyes and the sunlight did not reach them. One of which, Hermione noticed, was Merlin.

"We have gathered here to witness the testimony of this... woman.." He looked her over, noticing her royal colours, but addressed her with the disdain of a servant due to her magickal instances "who comes hailing from a mysterious land _beyond_ the Five Kingdoms." The air seemed to grow thin, and everyone's ears seemed to perk up. "She has committed the crime of magick, and completed an assault on Camelot. Two obvious breaches of the law.. What say you, traveler?" He had refused to address her personally up until this point, and Hermione had only a second to reflect upon his words, in which she concluded but one thing; that there is a time when honesty is required, and for the greater good, it should be used. But there is also a time when all it can do is mar what is already well and natural in the world.

"Sire. Certainly, that when one accompanies a magickal beast, in should create little reflection of the person themselves being magickal. Hippogryphs are very prestigious, dignified and noble creatures, and all they require is to be respected and they will befriend you." She paused to let it sink in, but not long enough for someone to interject. "Furthermore, as Prince Arthur may have informed you, I was being pursued at that time, and had no other alternative. I was trying to escape it, not use it to bring the fall of Camelot."

If her reply had reached or surprised him, he did not show it. Arthur, Merlin, and a few court members seemed satisfied and impressed with her remark, probably reinforcing the notion that she was of educated, royal blood. _Certainly Uther couldn't kill royalty?_ She thought smugly. _Plus, diplomatically, it could potentially mean the fall of Camelot, as he does not know the size of the 'armies' from my 'homeland'. If he's any kind of moderately intelligent being, he'd release me..._ The pause before Uther responded seemed enormous, but Hermione contended to stand stalk still and wait patiently and professionally until he did.

Eventually he concluded. "I have decided that your punishment will not be death,"

_Damn right it won't be._

"You will serve your debt to Camelot in the kitchens until I see fit that you have repaid for your damage. Afterwards, you will be treated as Camelot's guest, with the treatment of which your royal appearance commands. Dismissed."

_The _Kitchens_?! Eh, it's better than being burned alive._ Hermione let her shoulders slump a little. The first real bit of relief she'd felt in what seemed like a lot longer than it was. She had been looking down at her feet, and when she lifted her gaze she met Merlin's, who had a very curious grin on his face, albeit quite genuine. Had he _enjoyed_ that whole ordeal? He seemed like such a nutcase, but she thought he seemed interesting at the same time. She mentally listed off adjectives for him as she waited for the royals to depart. Servants and civilians left last.

_Ambiguous.. Sarcastic..? Folly, definitely.._ _Despite being in such close quarters for the past 35 hours, I really don't know much about him._ She made it her goal to at least _meet_ him before she went home. She thought it all up in a manner of seconds, before turning around and striding out of the enormous council room doors.


	6. Changes

**Hey, people! Some good progress happened today, and I'll bet money that if you liked my previous chapters, this one will definitely make you smile. :D I wanted to write oodles more, but it's late now, so I thought I'd cap off and post what I've done so far. I think I've got some good imagery going on here. Haha.**

* * *

Hermione suddenly felt stupid, stalking out of the court room with all that determination. Like she had somewhere to be. How ridiculous. Once she rounded the first corner however, she stopped. Not abruptly, but gradual enough for her to probably look really lost should anyone have been walking behind her and seen it. She slouched a bit, and began to walk really slowly, in comparison, wondering where she might go. She never bothered to ask where exactly the kitchens might be, and where she would stay when she wasn't working. She wanted to smack herself in the forehead, but luckily Merlin had come shortly after to save the day.

"Looking for the kitchens?" He chimed.

"Er, yeah, and perhaps some.. Living quarters." Merlin chuckled. "Oh, and where might I purchase other necessary items?"

"There's an open market every month or so in the lower town, for traders and things like that, food is readily available just about anywhere, but I think working in the kitchens sort of covers that for you, considering you won't be getting any payment. I'm honestly not sure where you'll live, I'll ask Arthur though, Uther doesn't bother himself with the more finer details, he's got a bit of a thick skill, so I don't think he could even if he wanted to." Hermione snickered and lightly elbowed Merlin in the ribs. She guiltily looked behind her to make sure no one was nearby before letting her real laugh escape. They indulged for a while longer, before Merlin sobered up and asked,

"Are you feeling alright? I mean, after everything that happened to you yesterday.." He shook his head slightly. All of the previous day's activities flooded into Hermione's head, and she sputtered an automatic,

"I'm fine." but Merlin didn't look convinced. Truth be told, Hermione was most certainly _not_ fine, and she was a terrible liar, that was the honest Gryffindor lion in her. She felt crushed that she was so far from home, her parents didn't remember her, and Harry and Ron were relying on her to help them defeat Voldemort. Everything she had done, and all the sacrifices she had made were about to become in vain if she didn't get home and start helping the Order. But she couldn't tell ANY of this to him, to risk spoiling the prophecy of Merlin, the Warlock, and Arthur, the Once and Future King. She wasn't even sure if she could tell Merlin she had magick, or confess that she knew _he_ had magick. So much conflict in her heart, and it seemed to show on her face,

"Hermione?" An outstretched hand fluttered back and forth in front of her vision, which had become foggy from deep thought. "Hey, Hermione, back to reality please." Her eyes took their time as they wandered up to meet Merlin's. For the first time she noticed that his eyes were crystalline blue, creating a stark contrast between his wise, piercing glare, and his shabby, serving-boy appearance. She almost scoffed, but thought better of it. Her dark thoughts retreated back into the recesses of her mind as her attention once returned to the land of the living, and Merlin looked more concerned than ever. "Let's... let's go look for Arthur, and ask him about where you should live while you're here.. Okay?"

Words felt harder to summon than usual for Hermione. "Yeah, he's probably wanting some more slave work out of you yet, while the sun's still high." And Merlin concurred. His eyes rarely left her throughout their little walk, and Hermione was flattered by his concern for her wellbeing, but she was perfectly capable of handling herself, and she knew her limits. _But I guess.. How is he supposed to know my limits as well as I do, I should be grateful._

Two thirds of the way to Arthur's bedchambers, Merlin suddenly remembered something.

"Did you get the bread I left you in your, er, bag? I swear I didn't snoop around, I just put it in there to hide it."

"Oh uh, yes, I did thank you." She hadn't really been hungry, but ate it in an attempt to drown her sorrows at being imprisoned and so far from home. Tension seemed to increase between the two of them for the next couple seconds, which felt like hours to Hermione.

"I noticed something though.. Your bag, it seemed to be unaffected by it. It didn't stretch or get heavier.. I-"

"I certainly have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione became flustered and nervous, and looked around for something to give her an idea of what to say next. "Are you sure you were not just imagining things?" She felt bad after, for pretty much insulting the soon to be greatest Warlock in history. Merlin didn't respond right away, and Hermione became even more nervous, if it were possible. "I'm sorry," she said finally, defeated. "It's just that it kind of scared me, you know, magick being outlawed and whatever, I just didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me." _Not because I don't use magick, but because I don't break laws, outright anyways._

"No, I understand." He mumbled. Hermione swore he sounded disappointed. The rest of the trip was silent, except for when Hermione pointed out a few things and Merlin explained to her what they meant or were used for. It was weird, to ask questions like that, usually she was the one doing the answering, but she hadn't read about some of those things in any of her books.

They_ finally_ reached Arthur's chambers, a short trip that seemed to last days, and it turned out he wasn't even in them. Hermione let her feelings seep to the surface, and she let up a look of immense disappointment and remorse. She was feeling kind of hopeless at the moment.

"Not to worry, I'm _sure_ he's down at the training ground with the knights, c'mon, we'll hurry there." Merlin tried to reassure her by sounding chipper, but all she did was stop the flow of emotions from making themselves visible upon her face. Thankfully the route there was shorter, and faster, and next thing she knew, they were already standing before Arthur and his men.

"Arthur, could I speak to you for a moment?" Merlin half yelled half spoke over the sound of clashing swords, and Arthur rolled his eyes before wandering over to Merlin and Hermione, who was wringing her hands in anticipation. Merlin swore she looked more scared and guilty than she ought to, but he conceded to asking her later, once she was settled in.

"Arthur, Hermione's got no place to stay if she's going to work here in Camelot. Uther assigned her no place in the castle, and she knows no one around here."

"Well Merlin, she knows you, why couldn't you have just given her a guest room in the castle, she's to be treated like a guest anyways, after her sentence is done?" Merlin suddenly felt stupid. "Do that, okay? And if anyone asks, just say I told you to." Hermione smiled genuinely at both of them, and Arthur, although a little perturbed at the sudden gesture, having never seen her smile that way, returned it.

"Thank you, Arthur." She cooed, and Merlin became suddenly jealous of their familiarity.

"It is my pleasure." Arthur responded before giving her a half bow, hand on his sword hilt. He turned around and walked back to the field. He was beginning to like her, now that he saw she was nothing like Merlin, but far more appreciative and intelligent than he had originally thought. Maybe he would enjoy having her as a guest. Merlin however seemed to steam at the prospect of Arthur stealing _his_ new friend. Hermione caught a drift of his negative energy and giggled, mentally comparing them to two elementary school boys fighting over some thing or another. She looked over and smiled fondly at Merlin, something he didn't expect, and it completely disarmed him. He smiled shyly and shuffled his feet

_Typical nervous boy_. She thought, and looked back out to the training field, enjoying the spring sun, and cool breeze. One knight seemed to catch her eye though, and she couldn't stop staring at him. He had brown, ruffled hair, an angular face, and a lean build. He seemed friendly enough, but still threatening, like a sleeping panther. She stared quizzically, and Merlin noticed,

"What?" he asked.

"...Who is that man?" She pointed discretely.

"Him?-"

"No, him-"

"_Him?!"_

"Noooo, that one!"

"_Ohhhhh!..._ That's Mordred."

_Mordred._ The gears began to crank in Hermione's brain.. _But.. Uther?! Mordred never meets Uther, Uther is supposed to be dead. When the hell _am_ I?!_

"Merlin, what's the date today. The year I mean."

"Six-hundred thirty, why?" Hermione gaped internally. It was to be only roughly 6 years before Arthur is supposed to fight at Camlann and _die_. _How does Uther still stand?.._ The gears kept turning.. _Morgana.. where is SHE?!_ Hermione tried to find a subtle way of asking Merlin about it..

"Say, Merlin, shouldn't the king have a ward. I mean, I didn't see one at my hearing. Is there one?"

"You're asking an awful lot of strange questions, Hermione." _Oh just answer me you fool!_

"Never mind that, does the king have a ward?!" She'd accidentally rushed it.

"Uh, well he did, but then.."

"Then?"

"Well she betrayed us, and joined an evil sorceress named Morgause. I mean, _I_ know that's what happened, but Uther and Arthur do not, and we cannot tell them, because they will not believe us, but I've seen it. Morgana used to sneak off in the night.. and well.."

"Yeah." Hermione agreed passively, now deep in thought. The prophecy had been altered.. She racked her brain for any other mentions of the Arthurian prophecies involving Merlin that she had read.. Until it occurred to her, _I swear I remember it saying once.. that Merlin had a very wise old dragon as an advisor in his quest to help Arthur. Or at least that's what the mythologies say. The dragon was held captive in the very caves under the castle.. Maybe if I speak to him/her, I might be able to find out how this prophecy works._ It seemed like a grand idea, until Hermione conjured the image of a dragon snapping her up and making a snack out of her. She shuddered.

"Let's go, Merlin, I think I'd like to settle down in a room now."

He nodded, and led her back towards the castle entrance.

* * *

"Hm, do I have any kind of choice of what room I get?"

"Perhaps, I think I remember a couple guest rooms being vacant. Knowing Arthur he'll probably want me to put you in one of the best ones. Not that I disagree." He looked back to smile at her. And she smiled back.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like one close to where you stay, in case I get lost or need help.." Merlin chuckled.

"Sure." he said. "I live with the Court Physician also, so I'm sure it will make up for it in Arthur's mind if I set you to a room that doesn't have the best linen."

"Would he flog you for it?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Flog? No, no. But I'd probably get sent to stocks.. He likes to watch me suffer, but he's not cruel enough to want to cause me pain. It's why I enjoy working for him."

"You _enjoy_ being his servant?" Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up- Ah! Here we are." He stopped kind of abruptly, and Hermione almost tumbled into him. Merlin opened the door, and ushered her inside. She was pleased with the size of the room, and quality of everything inside, and it was all to herself. She couldn't imagine it getting much finer. It wasn't overdone, she liked that.

"Well it's nothing kingly, but I hope you enjoy it."

"Oh I know I will." She smiled broadly. He was so sweet, considering he was a buffoon with a big burden on his shoulders. She was grateful he took the time of day for her. "I'd like to meet your Physician friend sometime soon, he sounds like a hoot."

"Well, you don't start working until tomorrow, so how about you come over for the evening meal? I've got some things for Arthur that need doing, but in a couple hours when the sun begins to set you can come down. Just down those stairs, fifth door on the right. Can you remember that?"

"Definitely." Hermione mused. _I just got asked to dinner by _Merlin._ Wait 'til the guys back home here this._

"Alright, well see you later, Hermione." He waved before departing._ He looked kind of nervous._ Hermione pondered._ I hope he doesn't start crushing on me or something. That would definitely complicate things._ But she suddenly lost herself in wonderful excitement. She twirled around on the spot, arms outstretched. Flung her bag and scarf onto a nearby chair, and decided to take an extended hot bath. But not before tearing off her shoes and jumping on the enormous, poofy bed. _I think this is gonna be fun, despite being a lay-man worker for the next.. however-long._

She stretched her toes and remembered how good it felt not to wear shoes. She made fluff angels in the three and a half person bed, and took the next few hours to think over her life and all of her duties to her friends, family of late, and all the other people who relied on her presence, her success, and essentially, her return to modern London.


	7. A Night to Remember

**Hello, people. I'm starting to let my chapters get longer because people seem to be liking it more and more.. I mean, I get more favourites and views, but I've gotten zero reviews for the last couple chapters, and those are the kinds of things that keep me writing and steer me down certain roads, let me know how I'm doing, y'know?.. Soooo.. yeah. I'll leave that up to you.**

**Enjoy this for now, though!**

* * *

Hermione sighed leisurely, and rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. _If only I was part of this time, and didn't have so many people waiting on me 1,000 years from now and many kilometers from here, this might just be the best day ever! _But she wouldn't have traded her life as Hermione Granger for the world. Brightest witch of her age, top of the class. But none of it would matter unless she succeeded in getting home. She got onto her feet, and took a deep breath. She walked over to the chair where she had tossed her belongings and felt around in her bag for her spare shampoo and other necessities before making her way to the bath..

She saw the basin, but nothing around it or near it that would suggest how to draw water, or heat it for that matter. She felt rather ashamed at her lack of knowledge on the matter, so she pulled her wand out of her bag and whispered "Aguamenti" and heated the water to just over body temperature. She spent about 10 minutes washing, and a half an hour playing with soap bubbles and thinking about life. She had to reheat her water twice afterwards before she finished her bath. She went to put on a fresh set of clothes, but it was hard, she owned nothing that suited the day they were in that wouldn't be completely overdoing it or unrealistic. So she decided on plain black slacks, a faux-fur lined sweater, and her Gryffindor scarf from earlier. She peered in a nearby mirror and was pleased with how sharp she looked. But she didn't leave right away, she stalled for about 5 minutes. She didn't want to look too eager.. Not that she thought Merlin would really care, he'd just be happy that she showed up. Hermione laughed, he was just like a dog that way.

She folded and tucked her little beaded bag in her coat pocket, not wanted to risk leaving it behind, with everything she owned safely concealed inside. She left the room almost exactly the same as she had found it, sad that she could not enjoy it to its fullest potential. She scurried down the corridor towards the stairs, as instructed and got strange glances from nearby guards. When she reached conversational proximity, one of the guards said,

"No leaving the castle after curfew, Miss." He eyed her clothing.

"Oh no worries, I'm not leaving, just meeting a friend." She sounded convincing enough, clearly, because they looked at each other briefly before letting her pass. What was so curious about her? She looked like any other modern woman-

_Ohhh..._ _Right, women don't wear pants... Oh well, Merlin already thinks I'm strange. Best to act the part._ She was starting to feel like Luna in this place. She continued to trot down the hallway before reaching the supposed living space of Merlin and the ambiguous Physician. She stopped, took a big breath, and wiggled the last minute jitters out of her system before knocking on the door. She barely got through the third knock when Merlin, who appeared to be waiting right at the door for her, opened it embarrassingly fast to greet her. Out of sarcasm she let her face go blank and continued to leave her hand suspended in the knocking motion. Merlin became embarrassed, realizing his mistake, and Hermione started laughing at him.

_He looks like he's about to start pouting!_ she thought, still smiling.

"Hi." Merlin nervously mumbled.

_I'd put money on it that this is the first time he's had a female present in his living quarters._ Hermione mused.

"Hey." She chimed before striding inside and looking around. She was plagued with a sudden itch upon noticing the wall of books available to prying eyes. _I wonder if he'd let me read some of those.._ But Merlin didn't strike her as a reader. Maybe a researcher, but not a reader. _I bet they belong to-_

And then a man, clearly in his 60s or 70s came bustling down a set of stairs off to the side of the room, and with a quick glance up, Hermione noticed yet more books on multiple shelves in the upper story of the house.

"Hello there. Sorry to keep you waiting. I was uh.. putting some things away." He smiled brightly at her.

_Well that's ironic._ Hermione stuck out her hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you, I'm Hermione Granger."

He looked a little confused, but shook her hand nonetheless._ I guess women don't do that either._

"Gaius," He replied. "Merlin's had a hard time shutting up about you, no matter how many times I've tried to make him." He smiled sweetly, but she knew it was his intent to embarrass Merlin for his incessant babbling. Hermione laughed and turned to Merlin to smile at him. Once again he flushed and looked away. Hermione was immensely entertained by the darkly humorous relationship the two men had, they had a deep friendship that ran farther than Hermione cared to fathom at the moment. "Merlin, be useful and help me start chopping vegetables, will you?" Gaius glared down at him, still standing awkwardly, looking like he was trying to remember sentences he had made the previous night that he thought would impress Hermione. He snapped out of it quickly, and ran over and grabbed a knife to help cooking. She enjoyed the scene, they were making a kind of stew thing, and Hermione remembered how much she enjoyed improvisational cooking. It almost reminded her of potions class, and how both relied heavily upon using sight, smell, and even taste to decide when things were ready.

She watched them prepare multiple bunches of things to put in at the right time, and she suddenly became nostalgic of her mother teaching her to cook. Being a witch, she never thought it'd be overly necessary, and attending Hogwarts, where food is always magically placed before you whenever you needed it didn't exactly help that notion. But her mother thought it would be a good idea, and a good bonding opportunity. Hermione couldn't understand why she did that at the time, but she had grown to appreciate the time spent gruelling over something difficult, and how it had always been more rewarding in the end.

_"Honest, hard work, will always get you farther in life, and will always have more rewards to reap than lies and falsities." _Her mom would tell her. And she was right. Muggle or magickal, those words had been true, and had gotten her through some of her hardest experiences so far. Her parents were decent, simple, hardworking people, and she felt great remorse at never being able to share those moments with them again.

Hermione hadn't realised it but she had dropped into a stupor. She was sitting in front of Gaius's work bench, watching them cook. She had her head resting on her fist with her elbow propped up on the table. She was kind of glad neither of them fancied to ask her anything because she probably would have been too deep in thought to register them. The air smelled thickly of spiced meat, of which she guessed Merlin had ran out and purchased for the occasion. _He's quite thoughtful actually, contrary to what Arthur says._ She smiled inwardly.

Gaius dipped the ladle into the pot and brought it to his mouth to test the creation. He seemed relatively pleased, but Hermione couldn't help herself. She stood up and held her hand out.

"May I?" The first words spoken in a while came out kind of awkwardly, but Gaius was happy that she wanted to participate. She tested the substance, and was surprised by its flavour. _Note to self; never underestimate medieval food, it has its qualities._ But it was missing something. She pursed her lips and looked around. She glared at the shelf behind Gaius at all the labelled vials of spices. It was a good thing she had studied her Futhark runes, along with Latin and Welsh, or they would have been a complete mystery to her. She had gotten pretty good at using just her nose though, so she set the ladle down and walked over to the shelf.

Both men seemed kind of put off at her random act of asserted leadership but complied in the end. She picked off a peculiar bottle labelled Za'atar, popped the cap, and smelled it. It was a blend. Oregano, basil, thyme, sesame and salt. She took a big pinch and crushed in the palm of her hand before dropping it into the pot. She stirred it more, tested it again, and looked up at Merlin and Gaius, thoroughly pleased with herself. She motioned for them to try it, as they both looked disbelieving. She laughed and began to dish herself up some, and they were soon to follow. It was served with bread, and the evening was mostly spent making jokes, particularly about Merlin. But as the end of their visit grew solemn, Gaius began to ask Hermione questions of her past, and how she came to Camelot. Unfortunately Hermione hadn't thought out a valid excuse that wouldn't involve divulging the fact that she travelled through time.

"So I heard in the court room that you are from _beyond_ the realm of the Five Kingdoms, how does that work? Not a man alive that we are aware of has left these lands and returned to tell of it." Gaius picked her brain.

"Well, to start, I am no man." She winked "Secondly, these lands were not mine to leave. I became lost here after an.. expedition." It was _partially _true. "Not to mention I was being hunted.. My friends and I, were the only ones capable of defeating certain.. evils in our realm, and quite accidentally, I stranded myself here alone with.. well, Buckbeak the hippogryph." It sounded ridiculous coming out of her own mouth that way, especially to those who knew nothing of the severity of the situation. She started to feel herself running on again.. "There's an evil man where I come from, he uses dark forms of magick to kill and maim societies of people into performing his will. He kills without regard for innocent life, and seeks world domination. Adamantly." She cut herself off. Trying very hard not to spill her life's story in one go. She had extended beyond the necessary answer to Gaius's question, and couldn't bear to look up from her folded hands in her lap.

"I'm sorry for the loss. Do you know a way of getting home?" Merlin spoke up, but his words sounded strangled, as if he was suppressing a sob.

"I think so, but it's insanely difficult."

"Is there any way we can help?" Gaius interjected.

Hermione's voice got caught in her throat, behind the stiff lump of frustration that threatened to bring her to tears. She laughed forcefully. "I don't want to put you in a position like that, and risk you succumbing to the things I have experienced." She subconsciously ran her hand over the scar on her arm that read "mudblood". It had become itchy after the mention and recollection of her torture at Malfoy Manor. If there was something she could itch to satisfy the discomfort in her soul from the "Crucio" that Bellatrix had cast upon her, she wished dearly to scratch it.

Merlin put a hand on her knee, and urged her to look him in the eyes. He was devastated that anyone could be so vile as to want to do something like that to anyone, much less a young woman like her. She looked at him, and he was surprised to see she wasn't crying, she just looked very sad. When Gaius got up to return the dishes to be washed, he patted her on the shoulder and said,

"If there is anything we can do to help, you let us know right away, okay?" Gaius assured in a fatherly tone.

"I will." She continued to look into her lap, sad that she couldn't ask them for help even if she wanted to. She couldn't risk disrupting history any more than she had. Then it dawned on her; she still needed to speak with this supposed great Dragon under the castle! If it even existed of course. Her spirit dramatically lightened after that revelation, and she was able to look Merlin in the face again. She smiled gingerly, and placed her hand on his, which was still resting on her knee. He seemed to blush a bit, before getting up to help Gaius with the cleaning. Hermione went back to her spot at the work bench, and couldn't help but let out a big, lion-like yawn, complete with sound effects. Both Merlin and Gaius smiled, and after a brief exchange of glances between them, Merlin offered to walk Hermione back to her room.

She agreed and they strolled together, simply admiring each other's company, and the peace of the warm silence between them. They reached her room, and Hermione scrunched her nose and yawned again. Merlin suppressed a chuckle, and bid her safe dreaming. But before he could walk away, she had pulled him into a hug. She was tired beyond belief, but she couldn't help feeling gratitude towards him, for his time and support. She was to start her sentence tomorrow, and didn't know when she'd see him again... And she wanted him to know she appreciated what he'd done for her, with as little words as possible. It took him all of half a second to hug her back, her warmth making him sleepy as well. _What a sweet kid_. Hermione thought, dazed. She nuzzled his shirt and let him go. She _knew_ she'd feel embarrassed, and regret it by tomorrow, but at the moment she didn't care in the slightest.

"Good night." He whispered.

"Mmf.." She was too tired to formulate words. Merlin slipped out the door, and left without a sound.

_Tomorrow.._ The last thing she thought before climbing into the bed. _Tomorrow I will try and find the Dragon._


	8. Kilgharrah and the Quest

**Biggest chapter evvaar.  
Enjoy this or die.**

**You know, my writing style is definitely becoming more intense with this. I think I might re-do my first chapter, because when I read it over it sounds so childish. It'll be the same plot, but.. cleaner.. more badass.**  
**Review please. I slaved over this.**

* * *

Hermione woke up to a magickal alarm she had set the previous night. She wasn't sure when people around here started their days, but she knew she'd have to be up even earlier than that to get things started in the kitchens. She had a vague idea where they were, in the lower portion of the castle, where it's coolest and closest to the cellars, but she would still have to do some searching around. She got dressed and stashed her things away on her person, as she got the feeling she would have to be doing it just about every time she left her room. It was about 8:00 in the morning when she found the kitchens. She ended up being able to follow the sounds of metal pots clanging and loud shouts from a rather boisterous female voice. Which also meant she was probably late. When she walked in, the first thing she noticed is that all the kitchens were lined and connected to the storage units kind of like catacombs, and the rooms were crowded and everyone was rushing around.

_I wonder if anyone ever gets used to this._ She thought almost fearfully. She wasn't there long though before the source of the loud voice appeared right in front of her, and peered down on her with a hard, determined glare. The woman looked strained, as Hermione guessed she'd have to be, working all the obvious managerial roles in that place.

"And you are?" The woman asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hermione Granger. I was sent here to work by Uther."

"Ahh yes! I was told that there would be a lass coming in to help me for a while. Good to finally see you." Her tone seemed to lighten up. "I'm Audrey, and you'll be working with the bakers today lass, there's a lot of baking to be done for the coming Imbolc festivities."

_Imbolc. A celebration of the Old Religion. Those who celebrate it back home also call it St. Brighid's Day. But it was derived from this. Brighid is the Celtic Fire Goddess, patron of smithscraft, healing, midwifery, and poetry.. I've always loved these events, but now I get to finally see one celebrated traditionally. _Hermione felt excited about being a part of such a beautiful event, and in the legendary kingdom of Camelot to boot. She was thinking happily about the things she knew she'd have to help make on her way over to the part of the kitchen the woman kindly directed her to when she heard a smash and a shout from where she had just came from,

"MERLIN!" Audrey roared from behind her.

"SORRY!" A familiar voice called back. Hermione whipped around, and burst out laughing. Merlin had knocked over a man who had been carrying clean dishes to put away, and luckily none of them were overly breakable. Merlin was slipping around trying to regain himself and help the man with the things he'd dropped. Merlin scrambled around a bit more before looking up a catching Hermione's eye. He saw her laughing at him, and scowled.

_Why do I only ever mess up when she's around? _Merlin deadpanned internally. He waved sheepishly. Hermione thought that he looked like he was about to walk over and say hello but the large woman running the kitchen had come to him and shoved a tray into his arms, snapping him out of his daze.

"-And be more careful next time!" Was all either had heard from the chef. Hermione assumed he was picking up Arthur's breakfast, and he had scurried out quickly to make sure it got there still warm. Hermione giggled and continued to make her way to the ovens. She spent her whole day kneading scone doe and baking poppy seed cakes and before the day was out her wrists were sore and her arms were stiff.

_I really should work out more. I've never needed to work this hard, and it's embarrassing how useless I am.._ Hermione pondered as she massaged her sore wrists as if they had just come out of shackles. She was about to leave, as most of the other workers had already for the evening, but she had been covering the cooled baking with wax paper to preserve it, something she'd done her whole life, but no one here seemed to. When she'd told them what it was used for she had started everyone on it. She had said,

_"And don't cover them when they're still hot, or they'll sweat and get soggy overnight."_ When she had explained it to the others, they understood it, but were surprised at how she had come up with it. She had told them that it was not her who had conjured the idea, but that everyone did that sort of thing where she came from. They seemed to regard her more highly afterwards. She was just walking out the door when the Audrey called back to her and handed her a warm cardboard box.

"It's your payment." She replied to Hermione's wordless confusion. Hermione guessed it was her dinner.

"Will this be an everyday thing?" Hermione asked, tearing her gaze away from the steaming box in her hands. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now.

"For the most part," the woman replied "Dinners only though, considering it's a chef's job to always test her product before she serves it to royalty." She winked. Hermione smiled, Audrey seemed like the kind of woman who was enjoyable to everyone, unless you got on her bad side. "I've given you a bit more today because tomorrow we will have to work extra hard, because of the Imbolc feast, and the chefs are also the hall decorators for these kinds of events." Hermione thought it sounded more like fun than anything.

"Well, thank you."

"Oh, and you were a bit late today, understandable, but about 30 minutes off of when I would have liked you to be here."

"I understand. I will be more prompt tomorrow." Hermione didn't have a problem with it, she just had no idea when she was supposed to be there.

"'Til tomorrow then!" Audrey said, waving, before Hermione walked back to her room.

Hermione reached her room without interruption, and immediately began devouring her food. Which, to her surprise, proved too much. She preserved it with magick, and stashed it away for tomorrow. Her evening was uneventful. She was too tired to tour the castle in search of the great Dragon, and Merlin didn't show up to visit. _I don't know why I even expected him to. We're barely friends, and I'm sure he's got multitudes of other things to do for Arthur and.. what's-his-name.. Gaius. Right._ But she missed not having company, considering there was nothing else to entertain herself with, and she found herself falling to sleep with a heavy heart.

* * *

The next morning she woke up uncannily early to bathe. She was doing the things she usually would have done back home, and found that she had never been more thankful to the inventor of deodorant. Who wasn't even alive yet. _You never realize how valuable some things are to you until they become unavailable._ She laughed.

After eating and brushing her teeth, she left. The day held so many potentials for her, her heart felt like it was going to explode. Festivals, dragons, friends, and watching history in the making. She was thinking over Arthurian legends on her way to the kitchens, and suddenly she gaped. _I have not once since I got here laid eyes on the supposed future queen Guinevere. How remarkable, I thought she was the servant to-Oh,... Morgana's gone.. So where is Gwen, then? I should take a trip into the town later and see if I can spot her. _Hermione became kind of nervous, and felt like it was almost her fault that history had been so disgruntled.

She arrived at the kitchens, and worked half her shift actually cooking, until the decoration crew and the cooking crew shifted jobs. Hermione spent her second half of the day decorating in the great feasting hall. It wasn't as _enchanting_ as the one in Hogwarts, but the food was going to be damn near as good, and if Hermione had any say, she would make sure the decor met the standards.

Audrey stood most of the time in the middle of the room, judging the symmetry and elegance of the process, more so than she actually did anything. Hermione didn't mind, but she thought she had a lot to contribute to the design and couldn't help when she stepped down to assume a little leadership.

"Um, Audrey? Might I make a small contribution?" Audrey looked at her quizzically, but her unexpected knowledge of baking the previous day persuaded the head cook to let Hermione help manage the decoration. Hermione knew what she wanted to do already, she wouldn't have asked unless she had. She ordered a couple female servants to go fetch her a fist full of rosemary, peppermint, dog rose, lavender, and sage, fresh. And to pick the hips off of the dog rose plant, and keep them separate. She told another cook to go to the kitchen and fetch her a mortar and pestle, a small block of charcoal, and start boiling as much water as possible, in two separate pots. She had the remainder of the workers weave wreaths of white flowers and circlets of jasmine to adorn the women who would be attending the event, including the serving girls.

Audrey had blanched as Hermione started assuming complete control over the operation, and it wasn't because she disagreed with Hermione's ideas. The girl had an unearthly amount of knowledge and experience on the matter, and it frightened most people, but the enchanting setup Hermione was intending to create was already working. Anyone who entered the room and saw what was being done, became unusually pleasant and cheerful. As a result, the work got done very quickly, and without complaint. Vines of white flower filigree draped the tables, walls and the main entrance like a lattice, symbolizing the romance of the coming season. When the servants had returned with the herbs and the water had boiled, she ordered one of the pots to boil a lemon balm/chamomile tea, then chill and sweeten it, to save it for desert, and the other boil mashed rose hips, then have it filtered and sweetened as well. She mashed up the Rosemary, peppermint, dog rose, lavender, and sage in the mortar and pestle, until it was a paste, she added some jojoba oil, to make it sticky, before balling it, and smearing it on the charcoal block. She lit it on fire, like an incense, which filled the room with a light, mood relaxing smell. Lavender was supposed to relieve tension, and peppermint to calm the mind. She didn't burn it too long, because it was a strong scent. When she disposed of all the left overs, and tidied up the room, Hermione stood, arms crossed, and sighed. Satisfied with her efforts, she scanned over everything to make sure it was to her liking, before sending people off to set the main course, and call Uther, the royal guests, and everyone else to the hall.

Because of her effort Hermione was chosen as one of three assistant chef waiters to attend the actual hall feast to play servant to the king and his men, so Hermione could govern what the other servants were doing. There were kegs of hot rose hip tea and spiced wine at the back of the room, behind the thrones where the servants would refill their pitchers. Among the servants was Merlin, personal slave to the prince, and to Hermione's shock and relief, Guinevere. She discovered part way through dinner, that Arthur had offered her the place there, as Gwen no longer had a permanent job in the castle. She discovered that Gwen spent most of her time tending her father's forge after his passing in an attempt to stay financially afloat in Camelot.

Gwen was not as Hermione expected, her skin was more tanned and firm, she had more curled hair, and curved figure. Hermione snickered, _At least Arthur has good taste._ Hermione made it a personal goal to introduce herself to Guinevere when the shock at the appearance of the hall wore off and the conversation reached a dull roar. Everyone knew it was Hermione who had dictated the procedure of the setup, as chef Audrey had made a scene about it, telling everyone who entered and who would listen.

Hermione stood by Merlin, silently chatting it up, breaking only to refill a goblet here and there.

"How did you manage it, really?" He'd asked.

"I just worked a little magick." She winked at him. It was entirely true, and entirely fake at the same time. She used the magick of knowledge to complete it, and a little wizarding magick to tie it all together. Merlin looked at her longingly, as if he wished for the real answer, but wished for her words to be true at the same time.

"Well it's amazing, whatever you did." He said, blown away. "It's unrealistically hard to please Uther, much less impress him, and I think you've done both." They stared at Uther, who was alternating between devouring as much as possible, and making fun with the knights and Arthur. "Don't think he's been this happy since before his wife died." His voice had lowered to a whisper.

"It's an unfortunate world we live in, Merlin, sometimes all anyone needs is just a little break from reality." Hermione droned thoughtlessly. She was letting words flow from her mouth like water from a fountain. She was enchanted by her own design. Her eyes stared blankly into the distance, subtly enjoying the sounds of happiness and the smells of food around her. She was so encapsulated that she didn't realize Merlin's even more impressed stare beside her.

"You're a strange girl.. albeit very wise." He muttered. "You remind me of someone." Hermione snapped out of her stupor.

"Oh yeah? Who's that?" she chirped.

"And old, old.. old friend." he said before turning to her and laughing.

"The dragon?" she said casually.

Merlin blanched. "Wh-.. What?! How do you-?" His mouth ajar.

"... A hunch?"

"Oh yes! A hunch tells you that there's a dragon in Camelot." Merlin whispered as loud as he dare, now angry and confused, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me, _exactly_, how do you know about the dragon under Camelot?"

Hermione sighed. It really was a hunch, but no one was _EVER_ going to believe that, especially if they thought she was born and raised in this day and age. "I got curious, Merlin, that's all there is to say. I've never spoken with it, I didn't even know it could speak until now, I just.. Dragons aren't such a farfetched idea. They exist where I come from too." She surprised herself with the truthfullness of her own statement.

Merlin released his social death grip on Hermione, and resumed his normal position, facing the banquet table. He rushed over to fill Arthur's goblet at one point, and returned with a calmer mind.

"Are there really dragons in your realm?" He sighed.

"Indeed."

Merlin let the silence drop over them. The royals had finished eating, and servants came in to take the left overs away. Another batch of servants came in not five minutes later to adorn the tables with pumpkin pies, enormous trays of the poppy seed cakes Hermione made the previous day, sweet buns, the cold lemon balm/chamomile tea kegs at the back of the room, danishes with rose hip jam, sweet cream spreads and other pastries. They had executed it exactly how Hermione had instructed them, and she was feeling extremely proud when she went to switch her pitcher for one filled with the new beverage.

"Refresh my memory, you planned _ALL_ of this?!" Merlin fawned.

Hermione beamed and nodded to him, smiling widely. "I mean, I planned it, but it was a group effort, really. The cooks were excellent, too."

"But still.." Merlin mumbled, looking over to the table, mouth watering... "Are you particularly tired?" He asked suddenly.

"No not really, not from just standing here. Why?" There was a small pause.

"Would you like to come speak to Kilgharrah, the Dragon, with me after this is all over?"

_He asked that like it was a date. _Hermione laughed.

"I'd love to."

* * *

The rest of the evening went by without delay, interruption or catastrophe. It was a dream-come-true for an event planner. Hermione successfully introduced herself to Guinevere, who seemed extremely friendly, and managed to receive special thanks from Arthur for everything she had done.

_"I haven't seen my father like this in years."_ he had said, echoing Merlin slightly. _"I believe it is finally helping him overcome the loss of Morgana." _He said with a slight frown. But it was short lived as he asked her to pass on his personal thanks, on behalf of him and Uther, to everyone who participated in the making of things. Hermione agreed, flattered, and went to help clean up, and Audrey gave her two big cuts of all the left overs, which Hermione concluded she would share with Merlin. She crammed the boxes into her bag and ran to meet Merlin by the eastern stairwell to the caves under Camelot.

"Have you ever actually dealt with a dragon before?" Merlin inquired.

"Hmm.. No. But I've dealt with wyverns and thestrals, both are quite finicky." She smiled genuinely in his direction.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, "I have no idea what a thestral is, but I'll take your word for it."

"Oh they're a rather recluse species. One can only see them if one has seen death." It seemed to slip her mind that wars in Camelot had probably introduced death to most by probably quite a young age.

"Camelot has had many wars in the past. I've seen a few deaths, but still never a thestral."

Hermione was lost for words. Luckily, the action started, which disengaged her from the obligation of replying to him. There were some guards nearby, guarding the entrance way to the caves, and Hermione knew Merlin would have to use magick to knock them unconscious. She decided to support him in it.

"Can you deal with these? I'll go keep watch around the corner."

Merlin perked up. "Definitely."

Hermione scurried around the corner, and just stood there. She heard nothing but the sound of armored bodies hitting the floor, before she returned, pretending to look apprehensive.

She didn't question him on his methods, which surprised Merlin. They ran down the stone path, which was too narrow for two to walk abreast. Merlin wondered at how strange this girl was. How often did he meet someone that he thought he could introduce to Kilgharrah and not have them run fleeting in fear. The path opened up, and Hermione stood beside Merlin, at the edge of a steep crag that opened up into an enormous cave with stalagtites and stalagmites cropping out of everywhere. They stood there silently, and Merlin's heart was beating too quickly for his own safety.

"Kilgharrah?!" He half shouted into the chasm. He didn't need to yell, the cave already reverberated sound perfectly.

Within moments, big leathery wings beat at the wind in the cave, rustling the hairs of the companions. Merlin looked over to see an unexpected expression on Hermione's face. Her eyes gleamed with excitement at meeting a dragon for the first time. Especially one that could talk. _She certainly is like no other lady._ Merlin ogled. He was coming to admire her and her boldness. The wing-beating-sound got deafeningly loud, before Kilgharrah folded his wings and dropped onto the worn stone perch he used to speak with Merlin on more than one occasion.

"Who is this hatchling you bring, Merlin?" Kilgharrah mused, refraining from addressing Merlin as a warlock for the sake of his secret.

"This is Hermione, she seemed to know of you already, without me having to say anything, so I thought I'd take her here." Merlin replied.

"And what an honour it is." Hermione added with a curtsy.

If the dragon had an eyebrow, it would've been raised. "Well Merlin, it seems your taste in women has improved." Hermione laughed but Merlin winced. "I sense that you are not ordinary, however, young child. Tell me, from whence do you come?" Kilgharrah seemed amused by what Hermione would answer, as if he already knew what the truth was.

"I come from a land.. beyond the Five Kingdoms." She said warily.

"I do not think you are telling me the truth, hatchling, you definitely come from within the realm of the Five Kingdoms, but not from a time when it is recognized as such."

Hermione refused to look into Merlin's eyes.

"A time? Are you telling me that she comes from a different _time?_" Merlin said, aghast. "That's not possible, Kilgharrah."

"Ah but it is. And I sense your destiny has had a change of direction as well young.. Warlock." Kilgharrah let the word slowly, but purposefully slip from his scaly lips. His big amber eyes glanced down to Hermione, who looked guilty, but refused to lose the staring contest she was having with the dragon. Kilgharrah brought his head down and turned it, staring into Hermione's soul, with one big molten gold eye. His clear, secondary eye lid blinked at her. It was a battle she was not going to win.

"Kilgharrah.." Merlin whispered, his voice sounding embarrassed.

"Fear not, Merlin, it'll be nothing she doesn't already know." He said as he scrutinized Hermione further.

"You have altered the fate of Camelot, and ultimately Albion, little witch. History is taking a course it was originally not meant to take.. but I think.. You already know that." Kilgharrah's voice lowered into a menacing, conniving tone, but with elements of curiosity. It had succeeded in making Hermione feel small, and like an enormous burden at the same time. She felt ashamed. Ashamed that she had let things get out of hand, and that she had succumbed to enjoying herself instead of doing what was rightfully proper.

"I'm only human, great Dragon." She finally announced. "It cannot be undone, but if I can fix it, I swear that I will."

Merlin swallowed hard. Everything.. he had been living.. his own reality, in the grand scheme of things had just been told to him that it was _wrong_. That little chunk of history that his whole life existed in.. wasn't even running its natural course, and because of this girl, this _witch_, he'd grown to like. The concept was too big for him to conceive. Why hadn't Kilgharrah told him sooner so that he could make sure that this didn't happen? As if his thoughts had been heard, Kilgharrah spoke,

"There was nothing I could say to you, young warlock, that could have changed the course of history from what it already was doing. If your fate was to be altered, I had to let it run its path, so that I could inform you of your new purpose in this world. Albion is not doomed, Merlin." Kilgharrah's last sentence was spoken as he saw Merlin shaking, with his head down and his fists balled. "It still relies on you more than ever, but now," he paused,"the burden does not rest on your shoulders alone." the dragon spoke softly, and Merlin looked up. He shot a worried glance at Hermione before looking back up at Kilgharrah. "Arthur's fate rests in your hands." He seemingly gestured not only to Merlin, but to Hermione as well. "But there is still Uther, and as you know, young sorceress, he is not meant for this world. He stands in the way of Arthur's destiny, and if allowed to live, Arthur will not be able to fulfill the prophecy." Merlin appeared sad, Hermione knew it was because Arthur was supposed to die at Camlann. "Do not fret, hatchlings, as your destiny has changed, undoubtedly, so has Arthur's. I am only able to see so much, remember."

The mental fog was starting to clear for both Merlin and Hermione. Things started to seem within their grasp. Hermione suddenly remembered,

"But, Kilgharrah, it is to be such a long time from now until.. The prophecy is completed at Camlann" Hermione didn't want to give too much of it to Merlin. She didn't want to bias him.

"Alas, time is not an issue for you, is it, young one?" He mused. Hermione tensed.

"Yes but, didn't you say that Arthur's fate rests in both of our hands now? What would become of him if just up and disappeared for.. all that time."

"It is not quite as long as you think, little one. Remember, everything is changing. Thirty-two turns should get you there." He half winked, reminding Hermione of Dumbledore in third year. "I think Merlin can keep Arthur safe for the time being." Kilgharrah looked like he could have been smiling.

"Wait! How long would she be gone?" Merlin piped up, suddenly alarmed.

"A few years." Hermione answered.

"Years? What am I supposed to do without you?" Merlin folded his arms, before suddenly becoming flush, realizing what he just said. Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"Live on."

* * *

Their conversation droned on, Kilgharrah filling in some details, and Hermione finally revealing how she truly came to be in Camelot.

* * *

_We were travelling.. trying desperately to stay moving, always out of the Dark Lord's reach as we tried to solve the mystery of the Horcruxes.. It was the morning of an early fall day, I was reading the Tales of the Beatle and the Bard on the craggy cliff face of a large mountain plateau, overlooking a deep rocky, untouched valley. The view was remarkable, the rock face was spotted with trees, wherever there was dirt. Some were deformed to accommodate the mountainside.._

_I looked back down at the book, and once again racked my brain for a potential source of the symbol I was seeing in the first page of the small, tattered children's' novel. _

_A triangle, with a line and a circle inside it.._

_It felt powerful, but it was just something I could not name. Harry suddenly came rushing out of the tent, a little gold ball in his hand, with renewed vigor written on his face. He jumped across the ragged surface of the cracked stone ground, and sat beside me, he opened his hand to reveal the golden Snitch to me, the one he had caught in his first year of Quiddich._

_"-At first I had thought it would open at my touch, Snitches having flesh memories. But then I remembered, I didn't catch my first Snitch with my hand, I nearly swallowed it."_

_He proceeded to touch the enchanted golden game piece to his lips. When he pulled it away some words had formed on its surface._

_"I open at the close." it had read._

_I showed him what I had found in the Tales of the Beatle and the Bard, the symbol that had clearly been hand-inscribed and he told me that he'd remembered seeing the same thing on a necklace around Xenophilius Lovegood's neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding. We had just decided to go visit him, and perhaps make a trip to Godric's Hollow when a ridiculous thing happened. _

"Well, at least it seems ridiculous now." Hermione interjected in the description of her arrival.

_A swarm of wispy black blobs came billowing over the horizon, they were Death Eaters, undoubtedly, and there had to be at least 20 of them. One dropped down at the edge of a patch of trees where the large plateau ended and gave way to a more boreal landscape. He rolled up his sleeve and smiled, his yellow, crooked teeth clearly visible, even from that distance. He jabbed his wand into the slithering dark mark, tattooed like a concentration camp stamp in his arm. The sky darkened considerably, and a living cloud of smoke began to take the shape of a large skull, with a snake coming out of the mouth overhead. Fear gripped our hearts and threatened to stop them._

Merlin looked utterly horrified.

_With a flick of a wand, the tent we had set collapsed in on itself, and shrunk to a manageable size, and I zapped it into my bag._

"I'll explain that later."

_We had no idea what to do, nowhere to go. Harry had summoned his firebolt,_

"A flying broom"

_But it wouldn't get to where we were for a while longer. Harry took defensive position, wand out, and began to fire off protective spells, but it was no use. Over twenty Death Eaters.. I thought our quest had ended exactly at that moment. Voldemort had won, and it was over._

_It was a peculiar sight though, when Buckbeak came flying off from another direction, dodging killing curses and deafening enemies with his cries, he came flying along the drop off from the cliff. Both Harry and I jumped off, trusting him to catch us, and he did. But he couldn't carry two for long. Harry's firebolt soon showed, and Harry leapt onto it. The Death Eaters soon gained on us though, and we had to split up. He flew towards Hogwarts, to be safe within its enchantments, which forced me to fly in the opposite direction, away from safety._

_I thought we were done for. Most of the Death Eaters followed him, naturally, but I had a considerable amount still on my tail. I could think of only one thing, go back in time and distract them away from my past self.. It was risky but it seemed to be my only option. Buckbeak had lowered himself into the forest, to lose the Death Eaters. He was dodging trees frantically. I unclasped my timeturner and clasped it around both of us. I was turning it back by about an hour and a half when we collided with an enormous womping willow and I hit the timeturner into a rapid spin backwards in time._

_Buckbeak took the most of the impact with his shoulder and chest, not breaking anything surprisingly, but probably resulting in the loud snapping sound you heard when I entered your time frame. The sound reverberated though time with me. Immediately, I removed the timeturner and put it away, but I wasn't even safe at that point. I saw a slender woman a ways back, black hair, black dress. _

"Morgana.." Merlin barely breathed in response, his voice cracking with dryness.

_And a blonde woman with her._

"Morgause.." He croaked again.

_They were working magick, indefinitely; I could feel it in the air. Soon, the earth came to life, and bore a rocky, winged beast. Now, I could only assume that they were to create an army of them to attack Camelot, but I scared them out of it. She said something in an ancient language, and her eyes changed colour. Soon after the monster came for me, and I fled.._

* * *

"You know everything after that.." Hermione said, suddenly hushed. The dragon seemed passive and thoughtful. Merlin was white as a sheet of parchment, and as still as a wooden post. There was a long, long pause as they had thought over what Hermione had just said. Merlin looked more fearful though, than thoughtful. Kilgharrah looked like he had reached some personal conclusion and was about to speak when Merlin jumped forth and clutched Hermione into a soul-crushing hug. He was distraught beyond belief, only understanding half of the vocabulary she had used, but horrified nonetheless. He felt for her, earnestly..

Hermione was surprised by the hug, but returned it, and relaxed in its comfort. It was a minute or so before the dragon discreetly and intentionally coughed, as much as a dragon could, so that things could progress.

"You're story.. Is ever-enlightening." He said slowly. "I almost fear now, that your fates have been conjoined because of your presence here, which ties Merlin to the issue in your time as well."

Surprisingly, Merlin seemed unphased. "I will do whatever I can to help."

Hermione was flattered, but worried for his safety. There were so many things he'd have to learn first of her time.. Kilgharrah sensed it and said.

"In due time, little witch. Remember, Merlin's story becomes legendary, for many years to come, he did not earn that title for no reason." The dragon radiated humour. Merlin however, seemed even more distressed, if possible.

"_My_ story? Nobody alive even knows I am a warlock except you two, and Gaius. Not counting the Druids." Merlin half questioned.

"Remember, warlock, you are still young, much is to still happen in your life." Kilgharrah staunched Merlin's curiosity for the time being, him understanding full well that he could not divulge the secrets of the future to one destined to create it. He could not risk biasing Merlin.

"So what do we do now?" Hermione asked, solemn.

"Pay your dues to Camelot, so none become suspicious, remember you need to make a reappearance in approximately 3 years." Kilgharrah said.

"And so I'm just supposed to wait around for three years until Hermione shows up again?!" Merlin raged.

_He's going to miss me._ Hermione thought, trying not to laugh.

"Precisely." The dragon said, as if he had not registered Merlin's emotion. _Dragons are so overly practical.. _Merlin sighed and eventually consented. "It's late, hatchlings. You must retire. Return only in dire circumstances, and only once with Hermione before she makes the jump." Merlin nodded, noting his sudden tiredness. Kilgharrah flew off promptly, leaving Hermione and Merlin to their devices.

"You have some explaining to do when we have some more spare time." Merlin yawned.

It was contagious, and Hermione echoed his actions. "Yeah. Don't worry, we'll talk about it soon. Start planning and stuff." Her eyes began to droop.  
Merlin walked her back to her room, and departed her after another long, heartfelt hug. He looked into her eyes like she'd be leaving the next day. He looked desperate, like he had something else to say, but didn't. His hands slid down her arms, to hold hers, as he backed away from her door. He said his farewells before strolling down the corridor to the stairs, without glancing back.


	9. Magick in the Air

**Hello, beautiful people. Don't kill me, because I know this is late, and I know it is short. I'm on a two week break here, so you have NOT heard the last of me. :3 Also, you should know, I used an Old English translator for two spells near the end [SPOILER] and their English equivalents will be at the bottom too. Thirdly and finally, I got a couple of champion reviewers over the past little while, a couple in particular were quite touching, So thank you;**

**Don-V, icarusLSU, and rockerbaby. Maybe I'll do little reply thingies at the end of my chapters if I get a good review/question, or do you people not want to see that rubbish? I'll try it this time.**

***~* CORRECTION: 22/03/2013: I decided to read some of the Merlin scripts to figure out what language they ACTUALLY use for the spells in the show, and it's often a mixture of Icelandic and Welsh. So as of now those are the languages I'll be using for my spells. When I give you the English at the end, I'll put what language it is, and maybe even the pronounciation. For chapters 11/12 where I'm taking lots from the actual episodes I'm going to use *exactly* what Merlin uses, which often has a confusing and irrelevant translation, but I will always make sure you know what the spell does so you're never lost. *~***

* * *

When Hermione woke up the next morning she was immediately bombarded by all of the memories of the previous night, which were still fresh in her mind, and the disgruntling feeling that she had so much to plan, and so little time to do it in. Her brief fantasy escape to the land of dreams had finally ended, and all it did was prolong the inevitable. She reluctantly hopped out of her warm, white fluffy bed, and began to get dressed. Her enchanted alarm blared some tune or another, but she didn't bother to register it because she was too busy being angry at the world for her lack of sleep. With a lazy swish of her hand, it turned off and she put her shoes on and left for the kitchens.

_One night's sleep, that's it. That's all I want.._ She grumbled to herself as she made her way down the stairs and through the seemingly endless corridors to where the sounds of fires and other tired workers made themselves known. Upon arrival, she noticed that all the chefs, serving boys, bakers and butchers were either sleeping at their posts, warming themselves around a fire, or eating some of the assumedly enormous amounts of leftovers. She was glad that she wasn't the only one looking like they hadn't got near enough sleep last night. _I guess after I left with Merlin, they all stayed behind to clean up and pack things away.. _She made her way to her work table in the bakers section and pulled up a stool to join the siesta, but not before receiving a couple claps on the back and "good job"s by various people who had been part of her working masterpiece. As soon as she sat down, she began to think. She figured that there wasn't going to be much work today, as the leftover food could feed the kingdom twice over, but they had to remain on duty in case someone actually needed something, which was unlikely. Her suspicion was confirmed by Audrey, who found her only moments after her arrival and almost echoed Hermione's thoughts exactly. And then she remembered what Arthur had told her,

"Oh yes, and Audrey? Arthur extends his royal thanks on behalf of Uther and himself, and he wishes for everyone involved to know of his gratefulness. Apparently the celebration did wonders for Uther's psyche." Audrey smiled at her, and promised to relay the message. Hermione spent several hours nodding in and out of sleep, conversing with others about technique, and picking at various sweets. She was surprised at how good the sugar tarts were, but she concluded that she probably liked them best because the tray was within arm's reach. She had never felt more lazy in her entire life, after eating her fill for the fourth time that day and taking yet another nap at her table. She suddenly remembered all the food she was given the previous night, and decided that she would now give both boxes to Merlin and Gaius. At this rate she was going to be obese anyways.

But suddenly it got her thinking. She was relatively well rested now, and could think clearly about the task at hand. She thought over the things she had learned, and what she must do:

_So.. I have to serve the next few months here. Uther has to die, _somehow._ Then I have to jump 3 years into the future, and help Arthur become king alongside Merlin. Then I have to bring Merlin into the future to help destroy Voldemort. Yeah.. no problem. _Hermione yawned and scratched her head.

* * *

The day rolled on with little interruption. Merlin had come in two more times that day to grab Arthur's lunch and dinner, the preparation of which Hermione volunteered to do. At first she had treasured the peace and relaxation, but then she became unfathomably bored staying at her post doing nothing. When her shift had ended, Audrey didn't even bother to come find her, and for good reason. Not only had Hermione done little to no actual work, but she had been stuffing her face throughout the entire day. Workers mumbled their goodbyes and one by one trickled away from their posts to go be with friends and family for the rest of the evening. Hermione was about to walk back to her room when she remembered the food she was planning to give Merlin and Gaius. She quickly changed directions and sped up, hoping to catch the pair of them before they went through any trouble of cooking anything. She reached their door, and pulled out the boxes. She heated the food to a reasonable temperature and knocked on the door. Suddenly she thought,

_I wonder if Merlin told Gaius of my magick? How could he not? Gaius knows Merlin is a warlock, so why shouldn't Gaius be trusted to know I'M a witch? If Merlin trusts Gaius I should as well. I wonder how much Merlin told him of what Kilgharrah said. I-_

Her thoughts ran by in a blur, and they were left unfinished when Merlin opened the door and smiled at her casually, which was surprising for Hermione. _Maybe he's more relaxed now that there are no secrets. Unlike most people, who just tense up and avoid you._ She admired him for that, and she smiled back. He ushered her inside, and she immediately walked over and plopped the boxes down on the work table, her previous thought growing small in the back of her mind. She sighed in satisfaction and turned around to meet Merlin's penetrating gaze. He looked mostly curious, but a little concerned.

"It's food Merlin." She smiled, and he relaxed. "What'd you think it was?" Hermione giggled.

"Knowing you? Some small mythological creature that you've kidnapped and brought here to show me." Merlin deadpanned. But he meant it. Hermione laughed and opened one of the boxes to prove it was food, and as promised, it was full of cakes and pastries, with a small jar of jam. Hermione had never actually opened the boxes but she could judge by the smell what was inside. Merlin stared into the box longingly, and when Hermione shut the lid he looked up like he had just come back from another world. It reminded Hermione so much of Ron it was uncanny.

_Ron.._

A sudden thwart of pleasant and sour memories alike flowed through Hermione's conscious in a matter of seconds, briefly reminding her of everything and everyone she was fighting for, and fighting against. All of her friends and loved ones back home, and more recently, Hermione and Harry's search for Voldemort's final horcruxes.. After Ron had left Hermione didn't know what to feel. She cared for him very much, but he was so reckless and selfish. It was hard to determine what part of her loved him like a friend, and what part loved him more than that. Hermione was naturally optimistic, and she was having a hard time discerning if she was just making something grand out of mediocre feelings of attraction. The human mind does that, when it's desperate. She wasn't even sure he was capable of the immense depth and intellectual romance that was part of being in love, or at least part of what she thought love should be like..

Hermione slowly dragged herself out of her daze to find Merlin looking at her intently. He knew she was off somewhere else, but he couldn't help but be worried for her when her eyes began to reflect a deep sadness within. He really wanted to cheer her up, but he wasn't sure how.

_Was it something I did?_ He thought curiously. She met his stare, and refused to let go. Her eyes began to glaze over as if she was about to cry, but she never came to it. It never became anything more than a glossy sheen, the only evidence of her personal struggle for understanding. Merlin was starting to see a new side to Hermione, the crumbling one. The one who clearly never let herself cry when she needed to, and the one who's spent many years bottling away her feelings. He slowly reached out for her hands, never breaking their eye contact. He delicately took her hands, and her fingers curled against his palm.

Merlin studied palmistry briefly with Gaius once in his free time, and learned that if someone's hands curl naturally while they're resting, the person has a more defensive, inward personality. Hermione appeared to be one of those people. Merlin was surprised at his own observation, having not normally been so attentive to body language, especially something so minor. He smiled, more to himself than anyone, but let his happiness radiate towards Hermione. She half smiled back, and not a moment later, Gaius knocked open the door, and waddled in, his hands carrying multiple baskets of mixed plants and various other things. Merlin and Hermione dropped each other's hands instantly, and turned to observe Gaius before going to help him with his things.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." He chortled. Neither of the pair spoke as they carried the baskets to Gaius' work bench. He looked at them with his judging glare, with one eyebrow just slightly raised. "Well?" He asked. Merlin's eyes darted around the room.

"Uh, Hermione brought us food." Hermione laughed. That _would_ be the first thing he'd bring up. Hermione's happiness was always contagious and soon everything began to run smoothly again. Merlin and Gaius ate, and Hermione adamantly refused their offers, having already eaten enough for a family of five. Conversation stayed light, as it should be when one is eating. But afterwards Gaius did not hesitate to bring up the inevitable.

"Merlin told me about your.. experience last night, and who and what you really are." His accusatory words betrayed his pleasant tone of voice. Hermione was honestly a little confused with the gesture. "It's not every day a time-traveling witch shows up in Camelot."

"I should remind you it was purely by accident." She said with a smile, although she couldn't imagine it being any other way.

Gaius inquired on a few more things, mostly confirming as he doubted Merlin's credibility. Gaius seemed a lot less distraught than Merlin did when he found out.

_He couldn't have known for _that _long. Then again, Merlin's a lot younger than Gaius. A lot less experienced with these things. _Hermione smiled inwardly. _Not for long, I guess. I keep forgetting that he's a soon-to-be medieval celebrity._

"So how does the magick work, from your time that is?" Gaius suddenly inquired.

"That depends, how does _yours_ work?"

Gaius looked at Merlin and grinned, before standing up and walking over to the water pale by the work bench and dipped a cup in to fill it. He set it on the edge of the table and stood there.

"Magick here is completely internal, you're either born with it or you're not, and you channel it through your dominant hand." He smacked the cup off the edge of table without warning. Merlin jerked his hand up automatically and shouted,

"Hætta hreyfingu!" His eyes burnt an amber-orange, like hot coals in a campfire. A colour she'd only seen one other place. The water stopped mid-air, with many little drops individually suspended like small crystal orbs.

"Just like Kilgharrah!" Hermione said, surprised.

"His eyes may appear like Kilgharrah's, but since magick itself was given to us by the dragons, the colour is only borrowed. Dragons are the epitome of unadulterated and unrestrained magick. Sorcerers and Warlocks are only funnels for dragon magick, and those who are worthy and capable of withstanding its force are born with the ability to play vassal to it. Except for one race…" Gaius glanced at Merlin apprehensively, who was still focusing intently upon the floating water droplets, and trying to keep them suspended. "The Dragonlords. Adopted brothers of the dragons themselves, they are born with the ability to support their own magick. And since they are more than just a funnel, they can use their magick to sense other magickal creatures nearby, and they share a special connection to the dragons." Gaius paused briefly. Merlin was looking up at him now, and his head was cocked slightly. His eyes still shone gold as he held the suspension spell, which gave him an eerie appeal. "The Dragonlords are said to be able to speak in native dragon tongue, allowing them to communicate on a more personal level, which can will a dragon to as he wishes.. This power is not granted to all who are born within the family, for all Dragonlords are to be the eldest male. Only when the previous Dragonlord is deceased does his heir inherit the ability to speak and influence the Great Ones." Gaius seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Merlin, you may release that now."

"Halda áfram hreyfingu." Merlin muttered. Gaius had grabbed the cup out of the air, but the water splashed to the ground. There was a moment of silence as Hermione thought over what she had just learned, and how she was going to represent her magickal community in her demonstration. Merlin seemed lost in thought as well, but for a different reason.

"That's extremely fascinating; I have to say it was not what I was expecting." Hermione said, quite pleased with her new information.

"I guess it's your turn now then." Merlin smiled simply at her. Hermione rubbed her chin and puckered her face, thinking of a more harmless spell to show them.

_Of course!_ She thought. She pulled out her bag and whispered "Accio." Her wand jumped out of the little pouch, and directly into her hand. "Our magick is channeled through wands, which I guess you could say are like an extention of one's dominant hand. Wands have living cores, and they choose their own masters. Once they pledge their allegiance, it is unlikely for them to change or betray it. Wizards from my time can cast wandless and wordless magick, but it is _far_ more difficult, and one of the hardest things to master. Magick is always within the user as far as any one is concerned, because dragons from my time can't necessarily cast magick, despite being magickal creatures." She couldn't help but smile as she casted her spell for them.

"Expecto Patronum!" She chirped. She had clamped her eyes shut and smiled, thinking of a fun memory with her mom and dad. She could feel the chilling Patronus slip out from between her fingers, into her wand and out into the room. She noted that it took quite a substantial amount of energy to cast it, more so than back at home. She opened her eyes and laughed as her little fog-coloured otter danced around her, Merlin, and Gaius. It bounced off the ceiling and walls, leaving a little white trail behind it that resembled party streamers, but in only one colour. The otter then conceded to rolling onto its back and 'floating' around her in circles. She kept the happy memory rolling, feeding into the pleasure of remembering her family. She fed the happiness to her Patronus, which wiggled around in reply. Merlin seemed utterly shocked, but he was obviously enjoying it.

"Wh-what does it do?" Merlin stuttered.

"It keeps away dementors. They're these soul-sucking, faceless demons that guard the cells at Azkaban Prison." She recalled.

"Prison?"

"It's like a dungeon, but bigger, and above ground."

"Oh.." There was an awkward silence for half a second before Hermione remembered a news-clipping she had kept and used as a book mark when the major Azkaban break-out happened. She pulled her beaded bag from her pocket and stuck her arm in shoulder deep and rooted around for a second before pulling out an old book. She pulled out the old black and white moving photograph and handed it to Merlin.

"Wh-?! It's a moving.. image.. on parchment!" Merlin was tripping over the new information. Hermione's slapped her palm to her forehead.

"It's called a photograph, in the wizarding world, photographs move.. Oh good lord you have so much to learn."

Merlin looked up at her and smiled brightly. For the first time, he seemed to acknowledge the actual thing in the photo.

"That's a strange castle."

"Well.. It's not really a castle. It's a place for insane murders. Most things aren't made out of that much stone in my time." Hermione admitted, much to Merlin's surprise.

"Oh so a lot of things are made out of wood?" He replied.

"Mostly metal."

"What?"

"Never mind.."

* * *

The night rolled on, and Merlin, Hermione, and Gaius continued to discuss spells, fighting tactics, potions, and everything else that Hermione loved, which is pretty much everything academic. Merlin couldn't seem to let go of Hermione's _"Otter that was made out of mist."_ And he insisted that he try the spell himself to see if he could get one. Hermione tried to explain that the animal was different for everyone, but that only increased his curiosity. Much to Merlin's disappointment though, every time he tried to cast the spell, a little white puff would shoot out from the palm of his hand, but not much else would happen. Hermione thought it would be one of two things: One, he needed a wand. Two, it was something to do with Merlin's unique magick, and the different time zones not allowing him to cast future magick in the past. The only reason Hermione could was because she was born of that time. She promised to keep trying to help him though, as he would need to learn the spell anyways if he was going to confront Voldemort and his many minions with her.

At an ungodly hour at night, Hermione was forced to make her way back to her quarters, where she crashed immediately, barely making it to the bed.

_I really need to stop doing this._ She thought grimly as her thoughts faded away into blackness.

* * *

**Spells: (Icelandic) (Word of note to you all, Merlin can actually cast these spells wordlessly, he's just using them to prove a point.)**

**"Hætta hreyfingu!" Cease movement! (Pronounciation is almost always single R rolls, which is just one extra flick of the tongue, no hard R sounds. "æ" sounds like "ay" or "eh". F sounds are weak and slurred. The first syllable is the only stessed one for all the words in the spells in the chapter.)**

**"Halda áfram hreyfingu." Continue movement.**

**Actual spell usage may become a rare thing for me, unless it enhances or is necessary to the story. HP spells will be more frequent because they don't require a translation. (Unless they're one-timers from the book and I feel the need to mention them.)**

**Review Q/A:**

**Don-V: I think this chapter should satisfy a lot of the jittery curiosity :P The reason I tried to make Hermione so stern and seemingly careless about Merlin's "crush" is because a lot of fanfics I've read make Hermione into a big wimpo cry-baby. Which I hate beyond all else. She actually is quite collected and understanding. Also Merlin hasn't done much in the way of fawning over her, and I'm trying to not turn Hermione into a cronic over-thinker. Alternatively, psychologically, when some people have a hard time dealing with a potential reality, they often resort to trying to "laugh it off" or make a joke out of it. Hermione's a little hysterical, and I tried to incorperate that into the story. (:**

**rockerbaby: Thanks bro! That comment about me having good timing really hit me. I want to make the story really complex, therefore I can't afford to drag the little stuff out. Guess it was a wise choice on my part (: I can't believe it hasn't gotten more reviews either! XD Kidding. My opening chapters suck shit. People read them and they're like.. "Uh, no." But hey, I have hope. Lookin' forward to your future reviews.**

* * *

**Update: 11 hours later: Okay so I kind of derped out last night while writing (Give me a break it was 3am) and forgot to make Hermione talk about wands and stuff. So if you've already read it, go read the little part where they cast magick again. I added like a whole paragraph and il est très importante.**

**Alors! Merci et bon matin, bonsoir, ou bon nuit! (:**


	10. The Crystal Cave

**This chapter is one of three that I will be posting over a very short period of time. I wrote a LOT and as much as I want to just shove it all at you at once, she's a work in progress, and my story responds well to cliff hangers. So here! If you're reading this in the future. Go away, this doesn't concern you.**

**CORRECTION: It only ended up being two. It was technically like two and a half, and I wasn't about to post two and a half chapters. So there.**

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning and sighed.

_It's going to be a long couple months._

She vowed to try and stay as socially subdued as possible for the next little while before she had to make her disappearance so people wouldn't become too attached to her and ask many questions about her whereabouts. She knew that she had become part of history now, but she couldn't help but feel intrusive whenever she helped someone make a decision that they probably would have done differently without her input. And by someone she usually meant Merlin or Gaius. The only ones she felt like she could talk to about anything. They'd become like family _and_ friends. Sometimes they drank and shares stories, they cooked and gathered herbs together, and like family, they picked on each other profusely.

Weeks, and months rolled by, and time slipped out of their grasp faster than they cared to have it. Merlin grew progressively more somber and forlorn over the last month of Hermione's visit, and acted like she wouldn't ever be coming back. Initially Hermione had said;

"_Hey, you know it's only a couple years, I'll be coming back. Plus, you've got your part to play in my time as well._" She winked at him but he didn't look convinced. "_Oh c'mon Merlin, we've got loads of time together after, we're still young._" He smiled at that, and pushed his worries back into the darker parts of his heart where he'd been bottling them for a while.

Merlin had been getting better at his future magick, despite all the odds being against him. It was extremely hard to cast magick from a time period that you hadn't been or lived in, nature didn't allow it, mostly because the magick hadn't _technically_ been created or harnessed yet. But Merlin was a remarkable sorcerer and succeed in casting many basic spells like '_Expelliarmus'_, '_Stupify'_, '_Agaumenti'_, '_Confundus'_ and '_Alohomora'_, right up to '_Aparecium'_, '_Aresto Momentum'_, '_Aqua Eructo'_, '_Finite Incantartem'_ and everything in between. Hermione told him about the curses, but refrained from giving him the wordings and movements until they were in her world, in case something went wrong or it proved too much for Merlin, and he agreed. In return though he taught Hermione the laws of Icelandic speak, druid and ritual magick, which Hermione loved and worked on mastering in her free time. She automatically had a knack for it and had a relatively easy time channeling the different type of magick through her wand. The environmental magick all around her was very strong, which resulted in very potent and concentrated spell casting for her. Her wand hummed and vibrated at her touch, and itched to be used. The result was that when they were alone, Merlin and Hermione challenged themselves to use magick for absolutely everything. They honed their skills by using different wordings to try and get the same results. They provided each other with extra obstacles from time to time, and immersed themselves completely in the rich art of witchcraft. They worked on invisible and wordless magick especially, so that when Merlin was summoned on missions with Arthur, he could protect him better when he needed it. Gaius didn't appreciate the multitudes of sporadic floating household items buzzing around him at all times, but he was thoroughly pleased that Merlin had taken an interest in broadening his understanding of the magicks, and Gaius agreed to pass on as much of his knowledge of creatures, potions, and spells as he could.

The months were rich with exploration and friendship. They had become far better and stronger sorcerers than they were previously and for the first time in her life Hermione really felt like her brain was going to explode with all of its knowledge. It alarmed her at first when she started forgetting little things, and realized it was because she was struggling to remember everything she was learning. But she wouldn't trade it for the world.

* * *

One afternoon, Arthur had found her wandering a wide corridor in the castle, one lined with arched windows, just admiring the mid-day summer sun and he had relayed the long-anticipated, life-changing message she had been expecting any day now:

"My father, King Uther that is, wishes to tell you that you have as of now, fully repaid your debt to Camelot. Now you are officially Camelot's guest!" He smiled brightly at her. Hermione smiled back, but without reflecting Arthur's obvious zeal. "That's good, you know. You don't look near excited enough." He smiled a crooked, joking smile. Hermione and Arthur had come to be good friends over the past few months, and Hermione hated leaving her friends once, she didn't want to do it again. At that moment though, something possessed Hermione to echo two lines from her favourite Shakespearean play;

"It is, however.." She paused momentarily to match his playful smirk, "I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls me, and I must not say no." He looked quizzically at her, but with an air of sadness. "Alas, I shall return, without doubt." Hermione thought she sounded like Dumbledore there. "But there is a quest of which I must embark." She began to, as of recent, speak in rhyme occasionally, and thoroughly enjoyed the confused looks she got from others. His sadness increased, but she thought she sensed a bit of relief within him. "The weight of this sad time we must obey, speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.." He was never going to know she was taking that out of context. She felt like laughing at her own antics, but refrained from it.

"Well, I'll miss you. WE'll miss you. How long do you plan to travel?"

"A few years at best."

"And you will indeed return to us?"

"Most certainly."

"Then I shall have you acquitted with the finest gear and horse. I know you fair the duties of a man better that any woman, and even some men that I've met." He smiled at her. She met his eyes.

"Thank you, Arthur.. Sir. I shall make sure they are well tended to. Thank you also for not prying into my intentions." She bowed deeply.

"No." He grabbed her shoulders gently, and forced her to lift herself from the submissive position. "We are friends and equals, I will not see you bow to me." She was too honored for words, and just smiled stupidly. Her teenaged emotions caught back up with her and she laughed, dropping the formalities dead in their tracks.

"It is good to know you as a friend Arthur." She clapped him on the shoulder. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but merely went to find a servant to gather the things she would need for her journey. She knew it was an odd gesture for a woman, but she also dressed and did other odd things that most women did not do, so it was entirely expected from her.

She knew that as of this moment she only had two things left to do. Speak to Merlin and Gaius, and reaffirm her plans with Kilgharrah before she violated the fabrics of time once again. She humbly turned to the stone window-archway in the corridor she was in, and let the sunshine warm her face and neck. She absorbed it and all of its energy. The sun seemed more radiant than usual, as if it too was giving her the parting gift of love and hope. Her thoughts flickered to Morgana, and then to Voldemort, and for the first time since Dumbledore's death, she was not afraid. She knew the road would be rocky, but she felt she could handle it, so long as she had the faith and support of Arthur, Merlin, Harry, Ron and all her other friends back home.

_Home.._ Where was her home exactly? Was it with Hogwarts and Harry and Ron? Or was it here in Camelot with Arthur and Merlin?

She pushed those thoughts away for the time. There were more important things to tend to.

She sighed and pulled herself from the warm, golden sunlit window sill and made her way down to Merlin's room to find both him and Gaius before she went to see the great Dragon. When she arrived, finding them was too easy and the universe offered no resistance to her plans. She knew it was a good thing, and that she should not wish otherwise, but she couldn't help but long for a few more moments in Merlin's presence. They had grown so close..

She relayed her message to the pair of them and they both grew very quiet and somber. Gaius was more accepting than Merlin, and gave her a hug goodbye, as he would not be the one seeing her off, but Merlin would. None of them could keep a dry eye, and silent tears dripped from their faces, which betrayed the reminiscent smiles upon their lips. They knew it had to be. Merlin and Hermione took the long route to the caverns under Camelot. He took her hand, and there was not a word nor motion of displeasure or discomfort. They walked in silence and found Kilgharrah waiting on his perch, where he had been obviously anticipating the arrival.

"The emotions in your residual magick drip from these castle walls, and bring word of your intentions." He replied almost sickly to the look of surprise on the companions' faces. Hermione and Merlin smiled at each other.

"So where should I be when I make the jump?" She asked.

"I would have originally suggested in here, where the environment is unchanging, as to prevent you from reappearing inside a newly grown tree or the likes of, but alas, you have told Arthur of your intended departure.." He looked at her as if she had made some crucially illogical decision. She reaffirmed her belief in dragons being practical almost to a fault. "So there is only one other place I could imagine such a jump being possible without disruption.." He paused and his eyes drifted off to a land only he could see.

"And that is?" Merlin said hastily after a long pause.

"It is called the Crystal Cave, and it resides within the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

* * *

Hermione jabbed her foot in the metal stirrup of her stallion and hoisted herself upon its back. She had gotten much better at horseback riding since her stay in Camelot. She often took to horse with Arthur and his knights when they raced in the woods, and she pleaded him to death to teach her how to joust, to which he succumbed after _much_ effort on Hermione's part. But that was a rare occurrence. Especially after Uther found out. When he had learned of what Arthur was doing with the young woman, he blanched to an unhealthy shade of paper, and the reaction could have been compared to one of him finding out about an infidelity. Hermione didn't really care, she knew Arthur was letting her win all the time anyways.

She looked up at Merlin who was settling in on his horse, and smiled. He had begged Arthur to see her to the end of the Darkling woods, but Hermione knew he would go with her all the way to the Crystal Cave. It was the birthplace of magick after all, Merlin wasn't going to pass up that opportunity for all the gold or hours of stock-bound torment in the world. Merlin knew Arthur wasn't going to complain much if Merlin's return was a day or two late anyways, he knew all too well that Merlin cared deeply for Hermione, and would extend their visit any way possible if he could. All the knights, including Arthur stood in a wide semi-circle around the parting companions. Naturally, Uther was not present, but nobody really thought much of it. Guinevere was standing with Arthur, a bold move, considering Uther could look out at them at any moment. Hermione was acquainted with Gwen, and they were friends, but they weren't close like her and Arthur, or her and Merlin. They were sort of friends of circumstance. Hermione wished to know her better, but there would be time for that later. Arthur walked up beside her horse and kissed the knuckles on her left hand in a formal goodbye and nodded to Merlin in a silent "keep her safe". Merlin nodded back and the pair set off at a brisk speed.

The traveling was smooth and the world seemed calm and time seemed slow. It still offered absolutely no resistance to Hermione's departure, which surprised her. She was used to expecting setbacks at every turn. At least that's how it was with the horcruxes. They soon reached the Valley of the Fallen Kings, and the pillar-like statues stood tall and domineering before them. It made them both a little nervous, being novices with the location. They slowed to a walk, partly in apprehension and partly in curiosity of their surroundings. Everything was layered with ages of untouched moss and lichen. It was a beautiful sight, and the air was thick with moisture. The forest was comforting, as it reminded her of Hogwarts, but also eerie, because it was so quiet. But they made it to the cave in no time, because the air got thicker with magick the closer they got. It was a game of hot-and-cold for a while before their found their way into the natural ditch-like groove in the ground, which bore an old round, dark entrance, almost fully concealed by the drooping moss. They pushed their way in, and the magick that radiated from the millions of crystal pillars made Hermione's head spin. Merlin embraced it immediately and began to wander throughout the cave, letting his hands brush over all of the crystals he could reach. Hermione caught a glimpse of fragments of images passing over their surfaces every time Merlin clutched one with both hands.

"Hermione.. This cave.. It's like it's telling me its story.. of how magick came to be, and what is to become of it.. You are even in some of these prophecies.." It was like the Department of Mysteries all over again, but less corrupted by mankind. Hermione reveled in it raw beauty, and longed to experience what Merlin was experiencing, but the crystals refused to reveal such things to her. She guessed it was because of Merlin's destiny as the greatest warlock in history. For the first time she began to envy him and his yet-to-be-discovered magickal prowess. But it was short lived, she wasn't much of a selfish person.

"Well.. I don't think it would be prudent to delay much longer.." She said, trying to block the feelings of her heart from her logical mind. Like lightening he tore his gaze from the depths of the glowing stones and over to her, despair written unhidden upon his face. He trotted down the earthen steps of the cave to hug her but before he could pull her into his arms, the sound of many branches snapping rang out in the distance. Not small, dead branches on the ground, but ones breaking off of trees and falling to the forest floor with dull 'thud's. Some hooves hit the ground and frantically got louder and closer to the cave. They stood inside, befuddled and surprised. There really was nowhere to go or hide, so they just stood there looking out of the entrance. A loud bird call sounded in the distance, and Merlin grew stiff beside Hermione.

She recognized that sound anywhere. She ran out of the cave, and just as she suspected, there stood a familiar hippogryph, impatiently pawing at the ground. When it saw her it trotted over like a happy pony and butted its head into her shoulder. Hermione let out an "Oof." and Buckbeak began to circle her and snort, bobbing his head up and down in excitement. Merlin slowly made his way out of the cave, and nervously half smiled at her.

"How-?" She began, but Buckbeak had knocked his head into her shoulder again and she turned to face him. He tucked his head under his wing for a second, and came out with a feather in his beak. He dropped it in her now open hands. "He must know I'm planning to leave.." She said, and Buckbeak snorted. "But how, Merlin?.. I thought you..?"

"I lied, of course. I couldn't tell Arthur that I used magick to heal him." Buckbeak made his way over to Merlin and plucked another loose feather from his other wing, and jabbed it into Merlin's clutches. He took it with a smile, not daring to refuse such a reputable gift, and certainly not wanting to.

"I should have known." Hermione was smiling widely. She ran over and jumped into Merlin's arms, and Buckbeak let out a little squawk of surprise and backed up a few steps, puffing his downy chest feathers. Hermione turned to him;

"And thank you too, Buckbeak." They both laughed. She hugged Buckbeak around his thick neck. "I'll be back soon, and we'll catch up." Buckbeak backed up slowly and faced both of them before bowing, with no loss of integrity on his part. It was something hippogryphs did more gracefully than any other. They returned the gesture, and he turned and flew off without hesitation.

"It's like he's your familiar or something." Merlin offered jokingly. Hermione laughed.

"Who ever heard of that? A hippogryph familiar." She said with memories of Crookshanks suddenly filling her mind.

* * *

They enjoyed the setting sun a while longer before going back to the cave.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until morning?" Merlin said desperately.

"I'd like to say it would make a difference, but time is of no consequence to me currently." She frowned.

"Right." He said in agreeance. "Well, goodbye for now, I guess." His voice choked up a bit, but he remained composed. Hermione thought he looked like he was about to jump back into her arms but he didn't. He looked like a man lost hopelessly in love, and she smiled. She couldn't help but feel the same way. She pulled out her time turner from her bag and double coiled it around her neck so it fit like a regular pendant. It was built to accommodate up to three people, or one and a hippogryph apparently. She meticulously gave the dial thirty-two forward turns, as dictated previously by Kilgharrah, and at the last second before she spun it into action, she contemplated jumping over and kissing Merlin. But it was too late now, she had to press forward. She closed her eyes and flicked the center, while holding on to the outer ring. It spun inconceivably fast, and Merlin disappeared in a flash. Days, weeks, and months were passing by at the flick of her fingertips. She felt like crying or screaming out for him, as part of her heart tore away. All the things he would do without her. All the new adventures, the new spells, new friends.. even new love? She hated the thought of it. For the first time ever she realized just how much she cared about him, and her heart ached like never before. She waited, suspended in the same position, unwilling to move. For half a second, she thought she saw Merlin reappear and leave. It had happened so fast she couldn't see what he did, but she was almost certain he had been there. Was he looking for her? Her heart jumped a bit.

_What a selfish thought. Surely he had some other purpose._ She tried to tell her self but it only made her wonder more.

A few more minutes passed by. Months for Camelot, before it all stopped. She felt like her soul had been splinched at the jolting stop. But otherwise she was unscathed. She was wondering so many things, so many answers she had to have.. She was standing in the Crystal Cave, swaying side to side, like a tree in the wind, not sure how to proceed, when a wisp of blue light began to pool on the cave floor.. She looked up and noticed that it was the crystals producing the concoction. It was as if they were sweating, but the kind of liquid one conjured when taking a copy of a memory. The mist swirled over her boots, and began to take shape. It was definitely human, and after a few more moments of speculation, she began to see familiarity in the figure. Suddenly she recognized the young man who stood before her, as the mist continued to collect and build around him. As the living memory finally took shape and colour she couldn't help but let out a shrill shriek of happiness.

"_Harry!"_

* * *

**Spells: N/A**

**Review Q/A:**

**icarusLSU: Thank you, and I believe this chapter answers your question about the Crystal Cave. Remember though, Merlin is a dragonlord, he supports his own magick. Merlin just doesn't know it yet ;) Have you ever read Inheritance Cycle? When the Elves made truce with the Dragons, part of the agreement was that the dragon riders were born, and they became the peacekeepers between the two races, but another result of it was that the Elves acquired some of the long life and magick that the dragons have, and even after the fall of the riders the Elves retained their magick and vitality throughout hundreds of years. It's built-in now, and I sort of based it off of that. But in my story the concept of "Sorcerer" is just someone who can channel dragon magick, which is what make's dragonlords so special. It's just a new way of looking at it, it doesn't really affect the way the story runs (: Lol**


	11. Time Alone: P1: The Fires of Idirsholas

**Here's another chapter. Yay! I'm so tired lol... These next two-ish chapters are going to feature Merlin's life while Hermione is skipping through time. Sometimes the story will look undescriptive or passive, and that's me trying to capture the essence of Merlin's in-and-out depression.**

**I gave you guys quite a bit extra here as this chapter was highly reflective of the actual season two Merlin episode "The Fires of Idirsholas", and I'd hate to cheap you out on length ****_and_**** content. I took many lines from the actual episode, and I will again when follows "The Last Dragonlord" but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. After that, I will try to stay original, only taking from the theme and story line of the show, otherwise it just gets stupid.**

**Like BBC's Merlin but with a cut-and-paste Hermione all over the place, and nobody likes that.**

**A little sneak peak into Merlin's 20th century wizarding experience; Voldemort steals more than death. Turns out he's not your everyday manipulative dark lord, but something far, far worse.**

**Cheers (:**

* * *

Hermione had disappeared faster than she had appeared in Camelot the day he'd first seen her. He gasped and clutched his chest as the feeling of losing part of himself began to sink in. He wished he could just keel over and cry, but he didn't think it was right. He allowed himself a brief time to mourn in the privacy of the Crystal Cave. A kind of privacy he was not going to have anywhere else, for sure. His life felt strikingly empty, and he realized just how much he had relied of Hermione's presence for happiness. He took a deep breath and for the second time ran his hand over the crystal that had told him of his new prophecy.

"_Two feathers of the same bird, though neither should have met for both are of opposite wings. Prophecies told for both, similar positions, but neither was informed of the other, for only by accident the two should collide. Where time is not an issue, both may succeed in fulfilling both one, and another destiny. For one has two, and two has not one, but also the other, and only ever together, for apart they shall not succeed.. Both must play an assisting role for the other's dominant destiny, for one is destined to be dominant in both, but for that they must remain a figment of the past."_

Merlin rolled the nub of Buckbeak's feather between his thumb and finger, and admired his new gift.

"_Two feathers of the same bird, though neither should have met for both are of opposite wings." _

_More like two feathers of the same Buckbeak. _Merlin laughed to himself.

It was obviously a riddle, but Merlin did not think it was meant to confuse. It depicted that there was a long standing prophecy of Merlin's arrival into the world, and the part he would play in assisting Arthur's ascension to the throne, but the arrival of a woman not bound by the confounds of time, who played a similar role to a hero character in her time, ended up in Camelot, by accident of course, and changed not only her destiny, but his. They had to both assist each other's success, because they could not do it alone. Their destinies were now tied together permanently. After that it got a little fuzzy for Merlin.

"…_both must play an assisting role for the other's dominant destiny, for one is destined to be dominant in both, but for that they must remain a figment of the past."_

Was it talking about him? Was Merlin destined to be part of the future, even after he was long dead? Kilgharrah had told him once that "_The story we are a part of will live long in the minds of men."_ Which surprised Merlin initially. How could the story of him and his stubborn ass of a king become famous for over thousands of years? He didn't want to think about it. The idea of his whole life being planned, then the plans being ruined by the arrival of his closest friend, and everything he thought to be normal was actually abnormal was still too much to conceive for him. He went out of the cave again and re-picketed the horses near a patch of lush grass and under the shelter of a tree and dumped his bedroll onto the ground. He didn't really care about many things now that Hermione was gone, but he cast some wards to repel what Hermione called 'muggles' which were just non magick users. Normal people. He didn't get it, but they protected him and that's all he cared about. He crawled into his makeshift bed, mashed his face into the pillow and tried to forget about his miserable situation, not even bothering to light a fire, and soon he drifted off into sleep.

The morning arrived too quickly for comfort, and Merlin began his 5 day long journey home. He tied the horse Hermione had gotten to his own, and spent his returning trip conjuring a convincing story as to why she insisted she didn't need it, and thus, sending it back home with him.

* * *

It was quick and painless, physically that is, and he returned with a very heavy heart. Arthur was by his side quite quickly to comfort him, and he accepted it with an optimistic attitude. Hermione probably wouldn't want him loping around like a loser anyways. Some weeks slipped by, and Uther began to take on a more old and weary look. _Weak._ Like someone was sapping on his energy. It was curious for Merlin. Morgana hadn't attacked in so long, they were beginning to think she gave up, but Merlin stayed alert to changes in the people in Camelot, and Uther was definitely changing. Merlin made a point of checking under his pillow and bed while he was out one day to see if someone had slipped him a charm to weaken him. But he found nothing. Uther's health declined rapidly over the course of a few days, but Merlin still could not find a cause, much less a solution. Arthur was paranoid and rabid, and Merlin avoided him on most occasions, doing his chores silently. But when he wasn't tending to Arthur, he was researching frantically. Gaius had no idea what it could be, but he agreed with Merlin when he suggested it was unnatural.

Merlin had parked himself in Gaius' miniature library one evening, with a hot bowl of soup, as he racked the books for information on deterioration curses or anything similar. Gaius was brewing something peculiar that smelled like rotting apricots, and Merlin wanted desperately to open a window, but it was winter now, and they couldn't afford to let the heat out. So he contended to breathing through his mouth, which was surprisingly uncomfortable for a nose-breather like himself. He continued to read. He assailed the books with herculean vigor, but he was beginning to feel hopeless. It was the end of his quadrillionth search and through all of his vast knowledge there seemed to be no solution.

But something dawned on him.. He distinctly remembered hearing Kilgharrah say that Uther was not for this world, and that he was actually preventing Arthur from fulfilling his destiny. Merlin straightened his back in alarm. He clamped the book shut and clambered down the little staircase into the main room of the house. Gaius looked up, sensing Merlin's panic.

"What is it Merlin? Have you found a solution?" He asked curiously.

"Well, yes.. and no.." Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Gaius I think.. I think we have to let Uther die." He said, almost questioning his own words.

"Now what makes you say that?"

"Well, Kilgharrah told me a long time ago that Uther was already in the way of Arthur's destiny. What if this is nature's way of saying that he has overstayed his welcome, and now it has come to claim him." It wasn't a question. The more Merlin thought about it, the more plausible and real it became. "Gaius it's the only explanation." He said to the look of doubt on Gaius' face.

After a long bout of silence, Gaius finally spoke. "I suppose Merlin, that you may indeed be right. It definitely makes sense. Have you spoken with Kilgharrah since he's said that?"

"No, I didn't even register the meaning of his words until now. I mean, I _knew_ them, but I didn't think.. Well you know."

"Yes Merlin, I suppose so."

* * *

More frequently over the next few weeks Arthur would come into Gaius' chambers and ask if he or Merlin found anything new about his father's condition, to which both would sadly reply nay. Arthur became even more paranoid, if it were possible, and Merlin stayed right out of his hair. Not wanting to be thrown off the top of the castle. Uther's death was soon to follow, and the procession came and went. Arthur was formally crowned the new King, but due to the grim circumstances, there was no celebration. Like most instances of time, they slinked by for Merlin. Slowly, but in a big, unrecognizable blur. It had only been a couple months but Merlin was aching for the company of his best friend that he loved so much.

* * *

The winter passed, the white fluff turned to a muddy slop that made squishy sound when it was stepped in. Merlin lost a pair of shoes to an icy sink-hole and life was bleak. The spring time was inviting, and the summers were the only times Merlin enjoyed himself. But the longer he waited, the more anxious he got. Morgana was surely building an army, he could feel it in the air. He could stick out his tongue and taste the magick coming in on the northern breeze. It was only a matter of time…

* * *

The fall of the second year Merlin swore he would never forget. It was early in the season, and he had been asking Kilgharrah for advice about something to do with Arthur. After Merlin had asked Kilgharrah to help forge Excalibur with his breath, any and all questions afterwards had been rewarded with Merlin running away with a burnt rear end. This time, naturally, was no different. Kilgharrah was done helping Merlin, only to get nothing in return. Merlin decided to use his best judgment with the rest of Arthur's affairs, which proved to be rather successful. But the day that Merlin had been dreading had come all too soon. A man came into the council room one morning, claiming to be a herder from the northern plains, by the name of Joseph. He said he had been camping beneath the walls of Idirsholas when he had seen smoke rise from the citadel.

"And did you see anything else?" Gaius asked.

"No."

"Did you enter the citadel?" Arthur put in.

"No. Nobody's stepped over that threshold for over 300 years.. You must know the legend, sire?" He said warily.

Arthur looked annoyed and didn't say anything.

" '_When the fires of Idirsholas burn the knights of Medhir shall ride again.' _" Gaius informed.

Arthur's annoyance increased, but he gave in and conceded to riding out, if not just to put people's minds at rest. It's what his father would have done. He gathered the knights and set out immediately after he had given Joseph food and a room to stay in.

* * *

Merlin was packing his things for the trip when Gaius handed him a belt with a long dagger strapped to it. It was of fine make and could be easily concealed within one's clothes.

"Thank you Gaius, but why? Do you believe the story as well?"

"It's more than a story, Merlin. Some three-hundred years ago seven of Camelot's knights were seduced by a sorcerer and one by one they succumbed to her power. At her command they became a terrifying and brutal force that wove through the lands leaving death and destruction in their wake."

"What happened?" Merlin asked, worried.

"It was only after the sorcerer herself was killed, that the knights of Medhir finally grew still.." He paused. "Merlin, if what Joseph says is true.. then _something_ has awoken them... And I fear for each and every one of us."

* * *

Merlin, Arthur and the knights road for an hour and a bit before they entered the walls of the derelict keep. They progressed slowly and cautiously towards the old citadel and Merlin could feel the magick pulse through his mind and soul. They entered the old iron gates to the small court hall where the fires of Idirsholas were said to have been burned. Arthur took off his leather glove and felt the coals on the raised burning basin.

"Seems part of Joseph's story was true.." He said dully. "But they were probably just travelers passing through."

Merlin suddenly sensed a powerful presence behind them and turned around to see what it was. He pursed his lips,

"Or maybe not."

The knights turned as well and were shocked. They immediately took stance as seven men with cold, dead faces stood before them in a pyramid formation. Arthur's eyes widened as the seven dead soldiers drew their swords in unison, and he looked like he was going to vomit. He brought up his sword, still disbelieving of the sight before him, and dove into battle with the nearest man. They were well trained knights of Camelot who had been cursed to spend an eternity both dead and alive waiting for a master that would never return, until now. Merlin had to dodge a few blades, and the men seemed to match all of Arthur's efforts. The other knights had been long knocked unconscious.

Arthur soon managed to land a blow, and pierced one of the knights directly through his stomach. The knight drooped slightly at the touch, but then lifted its head back up and pulled itself off of the blade and continued to fight. Arthur really looked like he was going to be sick, but kept fighting. The second knight he stabbed, his sword had gotten lodged between two rib bones, and he couldn't yank it out in time to avoid the incoming blow from the man who should have been dead. He ducked out of the way and put some space in between himself and the knights, but they began to crowd around him. Merlin tossed him a new sword from one of their fallen comrades and he continued to fight.

"_Run Merlin!"_ Arthur screamed in the heat of battle. Merlin ran part way to the doorway before turning around to search for his King. Arthur grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him out of the iron gates. "_Do as I say!"_ He yelled in a panic. Merlin and Arthur ran to the doorway and turned around to make a last stand, and hopefully a getaway. To Merlin's advantage, Arthur was now fully distracted.

"Aríes þæc!" He screeched as loud as he dare, and pulled Arthur back into the hallway as the ceiling caved in on the immortal knights. Arthur looked up curiously as he was being dragged backwards.. He had seen one too many things he couldn't explain to care _how _or _why _that had just happened, but he thanked the gods that it did. They fled into the forest, for no distraction could keep away men who would never die for long.

"Quick, back to Camelot, we have to get reinforcements." Arthur ordered.

* * *

When they entered Camelot's gates, the first thing that they noticed were all the guards were unconscious. Arthur jumped off of his horse and ran over where three guards were almost laying on top of each other. He grabbed a young man by the scruff of his shirt and put a hand to his face.

"Are they dead?" Merlin asked.

"Nope, they're breathing.." Arthur replied. Merlin shook his head in confusion.

"What's happened to them?"

"I don't know."

They ran into the courtyard to find all of the patrolling guards and knights unconscious in various places.

"What's going on?!" Arthur declared impatiently. He shot his head around, looking over every inch of the place. Camelot was a dead zone. The men heard some hooves and a cart rolled into the town center, of its own accord, as on top was a man who had fallen prey to the same illness. The cart pulled up in front of them and Arthur calmed the horses. He patted the man on the side of the face, but he refused to wake up.

"I'll get Gaius." Merlin offered and he darted up the steps and into the castle. He returned not seconds later. "_Arthur!?_" he shouted. The king ran up the steps to meet him, and saw the stairway littered with fallen knights. Both of the men started to feel unusually weary and tired, and they shared a nervous glance.

"Gwen.." Arthur murmured.

"Quick, let's find Gaius." Merlin restated, and they ran down to his chambers. Not much to Merlin's surprise, but more to his despair, Gaius was fast asleep at his work bench, just like every other citizen they had seen. Merlin shook his arm hopefully, but nothing came of it. "This must be the work of Morgana.."

"I should think so." Arthur agreed. "Merlin, see if you can find a way to wake him up, I'm going to find Gwen."

"Right." He said as Arthur burnt a trail out the door without waiting for a reply. Merlin knew he wasn't going to get a response from Gaius either way, but he knew who would respond, even if it wasn't always positive..

* * *

Merlin was running down some corridors, the fastest route to the caves, when he stole a glance out a window that overlooked all of Camelot. It looked uncannily peaceful in his opinion, but that wasn't what caught his eye. Just off in the distance seven black figures on horses were galloping full speed toward Camelot. They were riding in a perfect line, which was led by one lithe figure on a white stallion.

_I thought there were only seven knights of Medhir? Who's the eighth rider?_ He wondered if it was the person who summoned them. He saw a few locks of blonde hair cropping out from beneath the rider's helmet. _It's probably Morgause. I should have guessed._

He began to run with renewed vigor.

Merlin made his way down the familiar tunnels and stairs, but this time they passed by him so quickly he couldn't observe anything about them, not that he particularly cared to at the moment. He reached the end of the cave, and on the perch waiting for him was Kilgharrah. The only difference was that he was curled up and apparently sleeping.

"What's going on, why is everyone asleep?!" Merlin shouted. Kilgharrah let out a large dragon-like snore but otherwise did not respond. "Please not you as well.." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "I need your help what am I going to do!" He shouted urgently. Merlin waited a few seconds.

_Dragons don't snore.._ he thought. "Don't pretend. I know you're listening to me." He poked. Kilgharrah shuffled to his feet and yawned as he spoke,

"I don't need to listen to you, Merlin. You always say the same thing… '_Help me.'_ … And yet you refuse to give anything in return. Now you will face the consequence of that decision." Merlin tipped his head up slightly to look into the Dragon's eyes. "Camelot's end is nigh and there's nothing you can do about it."

"I know I promised to free you! And I will!" Merlin interjected. The dragon let out a great sarcastic, mocking laugh. "I will, I promise!"

"I no longer trust your promises."

"I-… I swear on my mother's life!" Merlin exclaimed, tears now welling in the corners of his eyes. The dragon hummed in satisfaction, and crawled closer to the edge of his perch, and closer to Merlin.

"Careful what you say." He said teasingly. Merlin itched in his own skin and bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back the angry tears. The dragon smiled faintly at Merlin's look of determination.

"You have to help me." He muttered. "Please?"

"Her life matters more to you than your own." It wasn't a question. "This, is an oath I believe you will honour."

"I will."

…

"It is one thing to cast a spell to put people to sleep. The power to maintain it is a very different matter. It will need more than just words to break this enchantment." He spoke slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"You must eradicate the source, Merlin."

"Great, and what is that?"

"Not what but whom. Spells need a vessel, a constant living presence to give them strength. The source of this pestilence is the witch, the lady Morgana."

"I understand.. But how do I stop her?"

"That is easy, young warlock, you must kill her."

"There is no other way?"

"The spell is woven with magick with such power that even you are not immune. You must act now before it's too late. If you do not then Camelot will fall and Arthur will die, and the future you are destined to share will die with you." His words were slow and powerful, and they echoed in Merlin's mind.

* * *

Merlin ran back up into the main corridor. The guards that had been on watch that morning now lay motionless on the ground. _So much has happened in such a short time.._ Merlin thought. He slid the collar of his shirt over his face and nose, for whatever good it would do. He hoped it would prevent the virus from affecting him too quickly or too badly, but he was already feeling the beginnings of the unnatural fatigue take ahold of him. He could only imagine what state Arthur was in..

If Merlin didn't find Morgana soon Camelot would be doomed. He would fail everyone, Arthur, Kilgharrah, his mother, Hermione.. He began to feel panicked. He needed to find a way to kill Morgana, or at least get Morgause to stop the knights from killing Arthur. He trotted down a few corridors, as light footed as he could, as not to attract the attention of any nearby immortal knights. Even though there were only seven.. and Morgause, they seemed to be able to be everywhere at once. He ran as fast as he could to the citadel, Arthur surely would have taken Guinevere there to be safe. They could barricade themselves inside until they could find a better plan.

He arrived to find Arthur unconscious upon the ground, Guinevere lying next to him, their hands clasped together. He looked to have been knocked unconscious more than anything, but sure enough the sleeping curse would have taken over him by now. All of the knights Merlin knew best lay askew all about their king, in an obvious final attempt to protect him and his love. Morgana sat proudly upon her brother's throne and exuded more confidence than Merlin had ever seen her use before. She definitely had changed.

"Ah, Merlin. Good to see you," She said sweetly. "But you're too late." Her eyebrows furrowed and she had dropped her voice to a menacing growl. She glanced lazily over at the falling knights and their king, and Merlin stayed quiet. "Not that you could do much anyways, you're just a serving boy." She smiled.

"Not all that is true is visible to your eyes, Morgana." He said thinly. He thought, if it came to it, he could use some of the spells Hermione had taught him to fight with, as there was no counter magick for them in his time.

"Foolish boy. You know nothing." She assumed, but Merlin ignored her.

"Morgana I have known you for a long while, and I know now that you are the source of the spell holding these people under this curse. I _will_ kill you Morgana, I have to. For the sake of Camelot, I have no other choice." He tried to suppress the tears at the thought of having to kill his old friend. But he knew that the day she left with Morgause was the day she chose her path. A path that would ultimately lead to her downfall.

"How can you say that? All is lost for you, boy. All of your friends, and your King have fallen prey to my plan, and I can see now, that even you grow weaker as we speak." She looked him over confidently. "Not only that, but you know I have magick. What good are you against me?" She declared. Morgana was very hasty and judgmental when she made her decisions, and Merlin knew ultimately she would not win this war.

Seconds later, and before Merlin could retort, Morgause strode into the room. Unaccompanied, which alarmed Merlin slightly, but he figured it was for the best. It would be easier to kill Morgana this way.

"Ahh, sister, it is good to see you." Morgana greeted. Morgause inclined her head,

"And you as well." She said before she strode over to stand by "Morgana's" throne.

Merlin needed to act quickly, surely now that Arthur was out of the way, the knights would be coming back to assist Morgana's rise to power. Not to mention Merlin was feeling more tired by the second.

"Tell me something, Morgause. Something Morgana may not yet know.." He said weakly. "Are you familiar with the name _Emrys?_ Surely you, Morgause, should know who that is." He tried to sound a bit more confident, but the spell was sapping his strength. He smiled a crooked smile. Morgause seemed to lose a couple shades but Morgana only looked up at her confused.

"Sister? Who is this.. _Emrys?"_ Morgana questioned, but Morgause didn't look like she was going to answer.

"What of him, boy?" She spat defensively.

"He is the greatest warlock of all time, is he not? Long anticipated by many who foreseen his destiny, he is said to be the one who can and will assist Arthur in reuniting the land of Albion. He is to be your bane." Merlin said overly matter-of-factly, a tone he had acquired from talking with Kilgharrah.

"How can you be so sure?! Nobody knows of his location." Morgause said nervously.

"Oh but _I_ do, and he is here. In Camelot. He's been watching you, all this time. Waiting for the right moment…" Merlin smiled darkly.

"Right moment? Right moment for what?" Morgana was looking back in between Morgause and Merlin as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Why, to kill you, Morgana. To prevent you from devastating an entire kingdom's worth of people. You are the source of this disease, and to eradicate it, he must destroy its vessel." Merlin didn't break a stride as he used wordless magick and began shaking the foundation of the castle. Enough to alarm them, but not to loosen the stones. He needed to preserve any energy he could in case he had to fight. He was trying his best just to scare them off without a fight.

"Stop this at once, Emrys. You are fighting for the wrong side!" Morgause shouted into the air, and over the rumbling of shifting rock. The knights of Medhir began to file into the room, marching over to protect Morgause and Morgana.

"Call off the knights, and he will let you live."

"_I will kill you!"_ Morgause screamed as she clutched Morgana to her chest. Merlin increased the severity of the earthquake.

"_Then you will die with me!"_ He shouted over the noise. Morgause held out her palm towards him and let out a wordless bolt of blue lightning. "Protego!" Merlin barked, but not loud enough to be heard. "_There is nothing you can do!"_ He bellowed. "_You've failed. Give up now, or be prepared to suffer the consequences."_

"Rotnun." He growled through clenched teeth, his eyes burnt gold and the ceiling began to crack and rumble. The stone began to collapse inward and fist sized rocks were falling all around them. He looked at them and shouted, "_Goodbye, Morgana Pendragon.. Morgause.."_ At that exact moment Morgause began to shout out a stream of words in the language of the Old Religion. Half of them Merlin could not hear over the noise, but he had an inkling as to what she was doing. The moment she stopped speaking, the black cloaked knights fell to the ground like corpses. Relief flooded Merlin and he noted that there was only one thing left to do, he used his magick to lift a nearby spear and fired it towards Morgana. It impaled her lower stomach, and she immediately began to cough up blood. Morgause screamed in agony as her sister fell to the ground, and she watched the life drain out of her. Morgause screamed again, but this time it was enforced with magick. Red sparks began to erupt from all around her which turned into a living jet of fire. It began to coil around the two women, and it flared and hissed like a snake before engulfing them completely. It evaporated faster than it had come, and the two women were gone. Merlin immediately ended his spells and the castle returned to normal, albeit, more tattered and ruined than before, but nothing he couldn't fix later. He took a big sigh of relief and looked around. Everything felt back to normal. Almost.

It wasn't long until Arthur and the knights started to come around. When Arthur first awoke he was startled to find that Morgana and Morgause were no longer there.

Arthur questioned Merlin very deeply as to how he got them to just vanish without leaving a wake of dead bodies and burnt buildings. Merlin had said;

"_When Morgana came to take over Camelot, she wanted people alive so that they could bow to her as their new queen. Even if I hadn't gotten her to leave she wouldn't have killed Camelot's citizens. Their loyalty and understanding, given willingly or otherwise, is the epitome of everything she fights for. She wants power to the Old Religion."_

"_Brilliant, but how exactly did you get her to leave, Merlin?"_ Arthur inquired suspiciously.

"_Easy. I lied. I told her that there was a very powerful undercover sorcerer who had been waiting for the right moment to strike her down. I used an old druid name."_ Which wasn't entirely a lie.

"_And she just.. Up and left?"_

"_Pretty much."_

"_Sometimes.. I don't even know how you do what you do. Any normal person would never have gotten away with that. Especially when facing someone like Morgause."_ Arthur said before stalking off to check on his people.

Merlin just smiled.

* * *

That evening Merlin stood back under the caves of Camelot, sword in hand. Kilgharrah had told him;

"_You must steal a sword from the knights of Medhir. Their blades were forged by the Old Religion. If you harness its power with your own, you will have the strength to break the chains with which Uther Pendragon has kept me prisoner."_

Kilgharrah flew down to his perch anxiously. "The time has come, young warlock." Merlin looked a little unnerved.

"Where will you go?" He smiled.

"I am the last of my kind, there is but one road I can take."

"What does that mean?" Merlin asked, confused.

"You will see."

* * *

Merlin made his way down the narrow, chipped staircase to the base Kilgharrah's stone perch, where his chain met the earth. The chain groaned and clanked as is slid across the rocks, and it was about as thick around as Merlin's waistline, if not bigger. He stepped over it, and towards the end of the chain, where the initial incantation had been cast many years ago.

"Before I do this.." Merlin asked, and the dragon nodded. "You promise me that you will not harm Camelot."

"I think there have been enough bargains." Kilgharrah squinted at him. "Don't you?" Merlin gave half a nervous eye roll and tightened his grip on the blade, as he pointed the sharp edge towards the center of the nearest chain link. The dragon looked on him with anticipation as he recited the spell to undo the magick that bound Kilgharrah in servitude to Camelot. He shouted his last few words as he swung the blade with all of his power. The chain exploded in a cloud of smoke and Kilgharrah roared in fury. All of the rage he felt from so many years of imprisonment, and now he was finally free. He kept roaring and waved his head around as to let everyone know of his plans for revenge. He took off in a flurry, and darted towards the cave mouth and towards the surface.

Merlin was already beginning to regret his decision.

* * *

**Spells: (Icelandic)**

**"Aríes þæc!" *Exact spell from show* Means "Aires docile" Honestly guys I have no idea how that works. Docile is like submissive or accepting of control and Aires could be Airs, to which I guess he manipulates to crack the ceiling? Perfect logic lol. (:**

**"Rotnun." - To decay/crumble**


End file.
